


Shampoo Bottles

by Ang3l_Hunt3r_333



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Doctor Castiel (Supernatural), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Human Castiel (Supernatural), Insecure Dean Winchester, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Lawyer Sam Winchester, M/M, Protective Sam Winchester, Slow Burn, Songwriter Dean Winchester, Teacher Dean Winchester, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:40:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28679034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ang3l_Hunt3r_333/pseuds/Ang3l_Hunt3r_333
Summary: Inspired by Peach Pit's "Shampoo Bottles"Dean is a high school history teacher that struggles with his own history. Castiel is a rough and tough surgical intern that doesn't know how to heal his own wounds.When an accident sends Dean to Castiel's emergency room, how do the ex-lovers handle their surprise reunion?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Comments: 22
Kudos: 64





	1. Thanksgiving 2019

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for blood. Not graphic but is mentioned

Dean’s day was going great; his term paper was coming along nicely, his favorite barista was working today so his cappuccino was made perfectly, and his brother just let him know that everyone would be able to attend Christmas at his place that year.

It was November in Boston and Dean was able to spend his Thanksgiving in his favorite coffee shop without the usual hustle and bustle. His pea coat, hat, and scarf hung up on the coat rack by the door, Dean was enjoying his cayenne pepper cappuccino by the small electric fireplace in the center of the shop. He looked up from his laptop to see Meg and Jo on either side of the counter playing a game of paper football. The shop was slow but Dean was glad that Meg decided to open her shop at all that day. Usually she accompanied her boyfriend, Alfie, home for all holidays but the two were in the middle of a fight and they decided that they should take a break this holiday and cool off. Jo was still in town because she knew that Dean didn’t have any plans and wanted to make sure that someone was with him for Thanksgiving. Dean appreciated that his friends were still concerned about him, and he knew that they meant well, but he was quickly growing tired of the constant streams of babysitters that were in his life. Regardless, Dean was thankful that Jo didn’t travel back to Lawrence this year. While he was doing better, he agreed that he was nervous at the prospect of spending a major holiday by himself. 

With most of his friends out of town, Dean was able to focus more on his school work and get a head start on this term paper. He was nearing the end of his first semester in graduate school and he was loving the work. He was working to obtain his master’s in Psychology with a concentration in childhood trauma. When he announced his plans to enroll in this program to his friends a year ago, everyone was worried if this was a good idea, that he was trying to take on too much at once, that the subject matter would be too overwhelming for Dean. He heard everyone’s thoughts and concerns, and even admitted that they were all valid. Dean was still in a fragile headspace but he had thought this through and knew that this was the next step in his life and that he would have the support system to work through whatever came next. 

So here he sits on Thanksgiving, term paper chugging along and an excellent source of caffeine to fuel him through it. Everything was going swimmingly until Dean heard a commotion outside the coffee shop. A shrill screaming and a deep, male voice yelling at the top of his lungs. Dean stood up and walked over to the window in hopes of an explanation for the noise, and what he saw chilled him despite the unusually pleasant weather outside. 

Outside Hellflame Coffee, a woman had been hustling down the sidewalk with her young son when a man jumped out and grabbed the boy. He stood with his arms wrapped around the boy and a pocket knife to the boy’s throat. He was yelling something at the woman, although Dean couldn’t quite make out the words that he was saying. Dean leapt out of his seat and was out on the sidewalk before he had a clear idea of what he was going to do. 

Dean paused on the sidewalk, watching this event unfold trying to decide what his best course of action was. After only a few moments of deliberation, Dean resolved to confront the man. As Dean approached the man, Dean quickly realized that there was something off about him; his eyes wouldn’t quite focus on any one thing, he was switching from picking at his right forearm with his free hand and all of his actions seemed to be very erratic. He was acting like a junkie coming down and in need of another hit. 

“HEY!!” Dean said sharply, trying to get the man’s attention on him, instead of on this woman and child. 

The man didn’t respond at first and did not seem to even notice that Dean was talking to him. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on the woman who was fumbling with her purse. Dean looked around to see if there was anyone else on the street that could back him up, but of course there wasn’t. It was 9:30 am on Thanksgiving, no one was just walking the streets when they could be with their family. The only help Dean might have hoped for were Meg and Jo inside the shop, where the hell were they?

The man finally seems to recognize that Dean is on the sidewalk with them and looks up to make eye contact with Dean. Once Dean gets a closer look at his eyes, his first idea about this man being a junkie is confirmed. Every move Dean makes should be carefully considered as this man is not in his right mind and will not be predictable. 

Dean maintains eye contact with this guy and slowly raises his hands to show him that there was nothing in them. He sidesteps across the sidewalk until he’s between the man and the woman. 

“Hey, man, let’s settle down here,” Dean says in a low, calm voice. “There’s no need for any of this today. It's a holiday and these people are just trying to go about their day.”

The man was distracted enough by Dean that his grip on the boy loosened and he was able to slip away and run back to his mom. The man panicked a little as he realized that his only leverage was gone. His eyes darting from side to side trying to come up with his next move.

Dean used this temporary distraction and slowly started to step towards the man, raising his hands slightly to try to grab the knife from his hands. 

The man lunged at Dean with the knife, waving his arm in wild, erratic slashing motions. Dean had been in his fair share of fights before, but always with men that he was able to track and predict, this man was unpredictable and dangerous. Dean is able to dodge and avoid his slashes well enough until he hears the woman’s crying again and tries to look for her. By the time he looks up at the man again, no more than a second later, the man is too close to evade. The man slashes once more and catches Dean across his abdomen and up his left side towards his elbow. Dean stumbles back out of the slash and out of the man’s reach into the street behind him. In all the commotion, Dean wasn’t paying attention to the road and didn’t see the car coming down the street until it made contact with his right leg. 

Luckily for Dean, the driver of the car was paying attention to the fight on the sidewalk and was already slowing his car down by the time Dean was in the street. When the car hit Dean, it wasn’t going very fast. Unfortunately, it was still going fast enough to crack the bone in Dean’s thigh, but at least he wasn’t run over. The driver jumped out of his car and ran over to Dean, already dialing 911. The driver finds a bloody Dean and a scared woman and child, the driver looks up to try to find the man that attacked Dean but found that he had already run off. 

By this point, both Meg and Jo had run out of the shop and were attending to the woman and the boy. Meg quickly sent Jo back inside to whip up a special batch of hot chocolate while they all waited for an ambulance and the police to arrive. 

“What the hell took you so long to get out here??” Dean asked, inhaling sharply as Meg pressed a rag against his abdomen to stop the bleeding.

“This seemed a delicate enough situation that we both thought it would be best to handle it on your own… and then Jo burned her hand when she saw that guy pull a knife and stumbled into a stack of milk crates which blocked me in my office for about as long as it for him to slash you, and here we are” Meg replied curtly. 

“Hi, wow I’m not sure what to even say here,” the woman said from behind Meg. Meg turned and shuffled back a little so that she wasn’t between Dean and this woman. 

“Hi, again, I know I just said that but I am flustered and scared and I do not know where to begin to thank you for what you did. I’m Lisa, by the way, and that’s my son, Ben.” Lisa pointed over to the boy sitting on the curb nearby. 

“Well, Lisa, I’m Dean and I would say that it was no problem but, heh, that wouldn’t really be true now would it?” Dean replied with a light chuckle in his voice, followed by a light wince. Right, he was hurt. “But hey, really though, I can handle this, I’ve been through a lot worse and come out the other side of it. I would rather this be me laying in the street than you or Ben.” 

“Are you sure you’re going to be ok? I mean I feel like I can’t let either of us leave today without knowing that I’m going to be able to make this up to you someday?”

“How about this, as soon as I’m out of the hospital I’ll give you a call and you can take me out for a drink?” Dean winked. 

“Sounds like a plan, cowboy. And thank you again,” Lisa replied softly, digging through her purse for something with her number on it. “Here you go, and I’ll be expecting that phone call, Dean.” 

Dean and Meg watched as Lisa sat down on the curb next to her son and placed her jacket around his shoulders. 

“What the hell Dean?!” Meg scolded, smacking Dean’s shoulder.

“Dude! What did I do? I’m just laying here bleeding in the street and you’re hitting me??” 

“I mean what the hell are you doing getting some chick’s number while you’re lying here in the street bleeding?? And who the hell is she to be giving guys her number while her son is over there, probably in shock from having a knife to neck not 10 minutes ago???” Meg responded, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Meg, I appreciate the concern but I can handle myself, and besides it’ll probably just be the one drink for her to make it up to me. You know I haven’t dated anyone since… well, you know.” Dean replied, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Meg. 

“Yeah princess I know, that’s why I’m concerned, I don’t want you rushing into anything and while I want you to get out there again, I’m not sure that a traumatized, single mom is the move for you right now.” Meg said, grabbing Dean’s hand to give it a soft squeeze. 

Jo returned with the hot chocolate as the ambulance arrived. Meg and Jo agreed that they would stay behind and keep the Lisa and Ben company until the police arrived. Dean was loaded up and he assured both the girls that he would call them with updates and that he would be fine.


	2. Thanksgiving, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is doing his thing and Dean enters his life, how will it go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for some blood and a broken bone, mostly medical stuff

Castiel’s day had been long and exhausting, but at least his shift was almost over. He was just about 6 months into his residency at the Boston Medical Center and life as an intern sucked. The workload and hours were kicking his ass and the chief resident, Anna, pushed her interns harder than the other residents at the hospital. But Cas knew that he was paying his dues now and that Anna’s methods were there to make them better doctors. 

Castiel was working in the emergency room on his trauma rotation when the call came in that there was a man coming in from some street side altercation. The man is in his mid-20’s with a slash wound to his abdomen and side, a broken bone in his leg, and a possible concussion. 

“Sounds like another couple of junkies went at it again, huh?” Gordon asked Castiel playfully.

“We don’t know what happened and that seems irresponsible to assume” Castiel snapped back.

“Damn man, I’m just saying, this ain’t the best location for a hospital and most of what we see are just goddamn junkies who threw their life away.” Gordon said, backing away from Castiel and holding his hands up in defense.

Before Castiel had a chance to start a full argument with his fellow interns about substance addiction in Boston, he heard his name being called across the ER. 

“NOVAK! This mid-20s male is yours! Sounds like he’s stable so stitch him up, assess his leg and possible concussion then you’re out of here,” Anna called out to Castiel.

“Thank god,” Castiel muttered under his breath as he grabbed fresh gloves and went out to catch the ambulance. 

As soon as Castiel stepped outside, he knew something was off. He could hear the man in the ambulance chatting up the EMT, Garth, and his heart dropped. There was no way that -

Castiel’s train of thought was derailed as soon as Garth pulled the gurney out of the back and the heart-achingly familiar face of Dean Winchester came into full view. 

“Heya there Doc Novak!” Garth called out across the carport with a friendly wave, “See man, what did I tell ya? Didn’t I promise a fantastic doctor with hair that just won’t quit?!” Garth looked back towards Dean and said with a clap to his left shoulder. 

Garth’s comment about Castiel’s hair was left hanging in the silence between the three men. Garth wheeled Dean in his gurney until Castiel reached out and took the other handle. Dean hadn’t taken his eyes off Castiel since he was taken out of the back of the ambulance, it was almost as if he couldn't believe the sight he was seeing. After over two years, he was in contact with Castiel Novak once more. 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel rumbled out with his signature gravelly voice once Dean and Garth had crossed the lot from the ambulance into the hospital breezeway. 

“Ohhh hell, y’all already know each other??” Garth asked, wide eyed and excited. “Well isn’t that just dandy?”

After a few more moments of silence and intense eye contact between Dean and Castiel, Dean remembered that he needed to respond to Garth. 

“... uh, oh Yeah, haha thanks man for the pep talk on the way here. And Hey, don’t forget to shoot me a text when you get off later.” Dean replied somewhat distractedly, quickly shifting his eyes from Castiel back to Garth. 

“Yeah Dean, of course! You know I’m always down for cheap chinese food!” Garth said while giving Dean a hardy high-five. “And you!” he pointed at Castiel, “You take good care of my man, Dean here, bye Doc! Until next time!” Garth turned away and hopped back into the ambulance, leaving Dean in the care of Castiel and his nursing team. 

Dean remained silent while he was wheeled into his room, listening to Castiel’s nurses as they briefed him on Dean’s condition.

“So, you have a large incision wound to your abdomen, a broken femur, and possibly a concussion? Want to tell me what happened to you?” Castiel asked pointedly, his back to Dean while he snapped on fresh gloves. 

“Well, I got into this… altercation with this guy on the street - wait, hear me out first,” Dean was quick to add, he could see Castiel’s shoulders tense and already knew that what look was plastered across his face. It was one he had seen many times before, Castiel’s eyebrows were raised, the skin above his nose scrunched up, eyes wide, all in disbelief that Dean had put himself in such a situation. 

“Look, man, there was a woman and her kid on the sidewalk. This guy came up to this and grabbed the kid. He was demanding money from the woman and was going to cut her kid if she didn’t pay up. I had to do something, I was the closest one there and I wasn’t going to let some hyped drug addict ruin that family’s holiday. So do what you need to do so I can get out of here.” Dean spat out with his arms crossed. 

Castiel stood in silent shock. It had been two years, two months, and eight days since he had last seen Dean Winchester. Since he had walked out on a man that was obviously in pain and hadn’t looked back. Years had passed and Castiel still thought about the look on Dean’s face before he walked out of the door to their apartment and out of his life. He knew that the next time he interacted with Dean Winchester was going to be rough, but he didn’t expect to be yelled at in his own emergency room by the man. 

“Ok Dean, that was admirable of you and I am glad that someone was there to help that woman and her child. Now, let’s get you checked up and discharged so that you can spend your day with family. Speaking of which, where’s Sam? I expected him to have been busting down the door by now.” Castiel said as he crossed the room and sat down on the wheeling stool next to Dean’s bed. 

“Ha yeah, well Sammy’s in Kansas visiting Ma and Pop this week. He and Jessica went out there, heh, basically had to push them out the door, promised them nothing would happen while they were away and look at me now.” Dean chuckled out, gesturing to his blood stained appearance. 

Castiel nodded along with Dean as he examined Dean’s abdomen. 

“Can you not move so much? I’m going to need to place a couple of stitches here.” Castiel said, looking up at Dean’s face. 

“So Sam’s in Kansas, with Jessica?” Castiel inquired, grabbing the suture kit off of the small table next to him. 

“Ah yeah, Jessica, his longtime girlfriend now, I imagine that he’ll be asking her to formally join the family sooner or later now. She fits in great, kinda tall, take no shit kinda attitude. Guess you have to be tough like that to be a nurse in Boston.”

Castiel stopped what he was doing; he sat back up and looked at Dean, face scrunched in confusion.

“Jessica? Jessica Moore? Tall, blonde, curly haired?” Castiel asked. 

“Um, yeah her. Why?”

“Dean, I work with her, she’s usually my trauma nurse but she’s on vacation this week. Apparently visiting your family in Kansas for the holiday.” Castiel quipped, he returned to Dean’s suture, shocked that someone he thought to be one of his closest work friends had kept such an important piece of information from him. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that she didn’t tell him that she was dating - hell, ready to spend the rest of her life with the brother of someone he dated… 

“Uhhhh Dr. Novak?” Dean snapped his fingers a couple times. “Earth to Castiel?”

Castiel snapped his head up, -shoot- he had completely missed what Dean had been trying to say to him. Wait, had he heard that right? Did Dean just call him Dr. Novak? And Castiel? Castiel’s heart sank a little bit lower, Dean hadn’t used his full name since they first met as college freshmen. 

“Yeah Dean?” Castiel looked up at Dean. “What were you saying?”

“I was just asking if everything was okay? If we were almost done?” Dean had a look of obvious concern on his face. 

“Ah, yes. Well, I'm done stitching you up but we still need to get a quick X-Ray of your leg and a scan of your head to check for a concussion. I can have my techs do that and I’ll meet up with you when you’re done so I can get you discharged.” 

Castiel quickly gathered his things and was out the door before Dean could respond. He needed a few minutes by himself to gather his thoughts on what just happened. After two years, his ex breezed back into his life and it did not go well. Ok, to be fair, Castiel was the one who left but it was a bad situation that he needed to get out of if he was going to make it as a medical student. But was he being fair to Dean? Was leaving the right decision that he could have made? 

Castiel had been struggling with these thoughts and they often kept him up at night. He felt so guilty about walking out that night. Dean was in a bad place and Castiel just said that he couldn’t handle Dean and his emotional baggage anymore and just … left. Dean’s treatment of him today was the best that he probably could have hoped for and he shouldn’t have been so surprised to hear Dean call him “Castiel”. Cas was a special nickname that Dean had given him the day that they first met. No one else before him had called him that, and he hadn’t introduced himself as Cas to anyone he’s met since he and Dean broke up. Cas was something special, something that belonged to Dean. 

Castiel was pulled out of his thoughts when Dean returned from his tests. Castiel quickly glanced over his results and saw that yes, Dean indeed did have a broken femur in his right thigh and he did have a concussion. The broken leg was minor, just a small crack and nothing that a light cast and a pair of crutches couldn’t fix. Dean’s concussion however, was slightly worse. Again, nothing severe, just extra caution was needed the first couple of days into his recovery. 

Castiel pulled himself together and entered Dean’s room to give him the results. 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said as he entered the room. 

“Heya, doc, what’s the news?” Dean asked brightly, hands politely folded in his lap. 

“I just wanted to go over your results before I discharged you today. Your X-ray did show that there is a small crack in your right femur, granted this is nothing severe and I’m going to get you fitted for a light cast so that the bone can set and do its job of healing you naturally. I’m also sending you home with crutches, I don’t want you putting weight on your right leg for one month until we can get you in for a follow up scan. Now, as for your concussion. I am a little more worried about that one. Do you have someone to stay with you for a couple of days?” Castiel sat down in the chair across from Dean and spoke quickly. 

“Uhhhh, well, I live alone but I -” Dean started but was quickly cut off. 

“Wait, if Sam is out of town, why are you in town alone?” Castiel interrupted, momentarily forgetting that he was the professional in this situation, and that Dean didn’t owe him any explanations. 

“As I was saying, I could ask Jo to stay over for a couple of nights. She was planning on coming over and watching football with me after her shift at Hellflame tonight. Sammy is out of town but I am not alone.” Dean said sharply. “I’ll give her a call on my way out of here. I’ll have to call an uber as I am not going to get on a bus with crutches.” 

Dean and Castiel sat in silence for a few minutes. Dean sat with his hands gripped together in his lap, Castiel could tell that he wanted to cross his arms the way he likes to when he’s angry, but he couldn’t because of his stitches. After all this time, Dean was so similar to the man he knew, but there was so much about him that he didn’t know. Those two years spent apart meant more to Dean’s development than Castiel would’ve thought, he had lost that time with Dean, and he didn’t want anymore years to slip by without the company of Dean Winchester. He struggled only for a moment with what he would say next. 

“Dean-” Castiel took a deep breath, “I want to apologize, I think we got off on the wrong foot today. There’s a lot unsaid between us and I don’t want us to part again on bad, or any sort of unpleasant terms. Please, let me just say that I want to be on good terms with you again. I want to know who you are, again.” Castiel could see Dean’s eyes widening. 

“Look, this is not an attempt to ask you out. We used to be great friends and I have to say, I’ve missed you. I would like to attempt to be your friend again, Dean Winchester.” 

Dean sat across from Castiel for several moments, then opened his mouth.  
“Ok Castiel, I hear you. I would like to get to know you again too. Just friends.” 

Castiel exhaled a shallow breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. Who would have thought that hearing that Dean wanted to be his friend would bring him such relief?

“Ok Dean, perfect. Now, forget about calling that Uber, you were my last patient so as soon as we can get you a cast, I will be driving you home.” Castiel said, clapping his hands once and standing up. 

“Ah bu-”

“Dean Winchester, do not even try to protest, I am not letting you call an uber when I am perfectly capable of driving you back to your residence. Besides, someone needs to be with you for the first couple of days during your recovery and you said that Jo wasn’t free until tonight. So I can be there for you and make sure that you don’t strain yourself until she gets there.” 

Before Dean could protest any further Castiel had produced a wheelchair seemingly out of nowhere and had whisked him out of the room and down the hall to get a cast.  
\----  
After another hour of cast fitting, receiving a laundry list of discharge instructions, and paying for his hospital visit, Dean and Castiel were leaving the Boston Medical Center and crossing through the employee parking garage to Castiel’s car. 

“Wow, haha” Dean chuckles out “I cannot believe you’re still driving this death trap on wheels”

“Hey-” Cas warned “Zeke has gotten us through a lot of hard times, he’s reliable” Cas said as he slapped the roof over the driver’s door. 

“Whatever you say, man,” Dean said, laughing to himself as he lowered himself down into Cas’s car. 

“Ok, Dean where to?” Cas asked, turning away from Dean to grab his seat belt. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Dean, what is your address? Where am I taking you?” Cas twisted in his seat to look at Dean. 

“You know where I live,” Dean quips.

“Um, I do not and that is why I asked” Cas snaps back.

“Castiel, you know where I live…”

“…oh, you're still there? I…uh .. just thought that would have moved out of there, well, a while ago”. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t. Still living in the same place… Do you remember how to get there or do you need directions?” Dean replied, feeling the tension build in the car between the two of them. “I can always call Jo to come get me, she’s coming over later anyways and I’m sure she could get off work early-”. 

“Dean no, I got it, I want to do this for you. I want to know how you’ve been doing. I also do remember how to get there.” Cas responded quickly, jumping to turn the key and start the ignition. 

Cas felt bad that he had made Dean uncomfortable and that he was forcing his care and attention on a man that obviously did not want to spend that much time with him. But a large part of him didn’t care, he had really missed Dean the past couple of years and there was nothing more that he wanted to be doing than catching up with the one and only, Dean Winchester. 

Castiel turned in his seat again, his right arm draped across the back of the passenger seat so he could look out the back window as he backed out of his parking spot at the hospital. He paused for a second before switching gears back to drive and studied Dean’s face for a moment. It had only been a little over two years since the last time he saw Dean, but he looked… older, fuller, more sure of himself. Much more than he had been at 24 when their lives split. 

Dean sat quietly next to him and he remembered the first time he drove to this apartment. It was much like this, he and Dean arriving in silent, nervous anticipation as he navigated his junky red corolla through the narrow streets of Back Bay to their new home.


	3. May, 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas are moving into their Boston apartment following graduation from KU. Sweet and fluffy with a healthy dose of smut to get you through your day :P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! thanks for reading and for the comments and kudos!

“Dean! Can you stop fidgeting?!” Cas yelled playfully, able to spare a quick glance over at Dean in the passenger seat. “We’re almost there but damn these roads are narrow and the drivers are horrible! I need to pay attention before some assbutt cuts in front of me.”

“Hell yeah man, I heard somewhere that everyone calls people in Boston “Massholes”, haha isn’t that clever? -you know, because the people are assholes? And we’re in Massachusetts?” Dean quipped back at Cas. He looked over at Cas with the biggest grin on his face before popping another jelly bean in his mouth. Cas met his gaze then rolled his eyes and went back to focusing on the road. 

As Cas navigated through the narrow streets of Boston’s Back Bay neighborhood, he thought about Dean Winchester. Cas snuck a glance at Dean out of the corner of his eye. The way the sunlight was pouring into the car caught Dean’s blonde hair and caused it to glisten. His green eyes shone brightly against his freckled cheeks. Cas took a deep breath and was overwhelmed by the immense love he felt for the man sitting next to him in his beat up red corolla.   
He was feeling so much that he wanted to cry to express it. This was a man that, despite the hell he had been through, loved more deeply than another he had ever met. Everything he did was drenched in love for those close to him. This was a man that had secretly applied to jobs in Boston after Cas had been accepted to his dream medical school only to plan an elaborate evening to surprise Cas with his job offer at a local school. Dean wanted to move halfway across the country with him. 

Now that they were stopped at a light, Cas was able to turn his head and take in a full image of Dean. He was wearing his black Led Zeppelin shirt (he had managed to steal it back from Cas this morning) and a pair of his best faded jeans. They were the best because they clung to his ass the best but Cas wasn’t going to let on to that fact, it was just for him. Dean was looking out the window at the historic brownstones that lined the streets, his right arm propped up on the windowsill, he was chewing on his fingernails. Sitting here in Cas’s car, about to start their lives together in Cas’s favorite city, the two of them on the cusp of their careers, Cas couldn’t help but think that Dean Winchester was the most beautiful human he had ever met. 

The car behind them honked, breaking Cas out of his thoughts. 

“There was no way that light had been green for more than a second! Damn, Cas, the people up here really are Massholes.” Dean said angrily, turning around in his seat to glare at the driver behind them.

“Dean,” Cas reached over to touch Dean’s thigh, “don’t worry about it, babe. I should have been paying more attention to the road.”

Cas turned his hand over on Dean’s thigh so his palm was facing up; Dean laid his own hand in Cas’s and intertwined their fingers together. The rest of their drive was spent in a comfortable silence with only the gentle crooning of whatever song was playing through the car radio. 

\--

Dean and Cas stood, hand-in-hand, on the sidewalk outside their Boston brownstone for several minutes. The immensity of the moment they were in sat heavily in both of their minds. 

Dean slipped his hand out of Cas’s grip and turned back towards the car. He took a few steps forward and opened the rear passenger door. Cas turned to watch him and tilted his head to the side in confusion as he watched Dean pull one of his shoes out of a duffel bag that was packed on the back seat. Dean looked back at Cas with a large smile across his face he held the shoe up and set it on top of the car. 

“Dean, what are you doing with my shoe?” Cas asked, head still tilted to the side. 

“I’m setting up a stand for my phone, we’re going to get a picture of the two of us in front of our new home!” Dean answered over his shoulder, still messing with his phone to pull up the camera’s timer function. 

“Got it!” Dean yelled before running back over to Cas.

“What pose should w-” Cas tried to ask but couldn’t because Dean had run over and swept Cas off of his feet and was holding him in his arms, bridal style. 

“CHEESE!” Dean yelled before kissing Cas’s cheek as the camera took its picture. 

The first photo of Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester outside of their new brownstone apartment captured the two in a moment of pure joy. Cas was caught mid-laugh, the kind that left your stomach aching and your cheeks sore. His eyes were closed, he had one arm slung over Dean’s shoulers, holding onto his neck, and his other hand was cupping Dean’s cheek as he kissed him. 

\--

The two began moving boxes into their new place. The first things unpacked were the coffee pot and an air mattress. Both had decided to sell their larger pieces of furniture before leaving Kansas as neither could see the point in renting a large moving trunk for their cheap furniture. Besides, they wanted to go shopping for new things to fill their apartment. This new chapter of their lives was not going to be started with the material objects of a previous chapter. They wanted everything to be a symbol of who they were at that moment in time. At least this was the reasoning that Cas gave Dean for why they should buy all new furniture once they got to Boston, but Dean knew that Cas was looking for any excuse to hit up Ikea. 

Dean began to unpack boxes while Cas kept bringing things up from the car. Dean was much more particular about organization than Cas was, perhaps bordering on obsessive-compulsive about where things should be located and kept, but Cas kept that thought to himself. Dean also made a better pot of coffee than Cas did, and if Dean stayed to unpack he would make a cup for him and Cas to share in their new digs. 

Cas brought up the last duffel bag from the car and dropped it in the bedroom. He grabbed the box with the air mattress and plugged in the pump to inflate the mattress. Once it was appropriately full he turned off the pump and left to join Dean in their new kitchen. He was greeted by the sweet smell of a freshly brewed cup of coffee and Dean’s smiling face. 

“Well honeybee,” Dean said, wrapping his left arm around Cas’s waist, pulling him closer. “We made it. Here we are! We’re in Boston! Beantown!” 

Cas pulled out of Dean’s grasp and grabs Dean’s shoulders to turn him around. The two of them are facing each other now, Cas sets his cup of coffee down and gently places both hands on Dean’s face, he gazes deep into Dean’s eyes, taking in the green color and the flecks of gold staring back at him. The air between the two of them is electric as they stand in their new kitchen in silence. Cas pulls Dean down and closes the gap between them until their lips meet. Their kiss deepens and Cas’s hands find their way into Dean’s hair. Dean blindly finds the counter to set his coffee down on and wraps both arms tightly around Cas.

All of the emotions that Cas felt in the car towards Dean are being released in this moment, Cas is all consumed with his love for Dean Winchester and cannot get enough. He breathes in Dean’s scent, a mixture of his body wash and leather. He runs his hands through Dean’s hair, a little longer than he usually wears it and Cas is able to grip it and twist his fingers in it. His tongue slips into Dean’s mouth and he can taste him. Pure Dean, and he’s all Cas’s. Unbelievably Castiel’s. 

Cas is unable to stop the tears from welling in his eyes and isn’t quick enough to wipe them from his face when Dean breaks the kiss for air. He didn’t pull back very far, just enough to catch a breath, the two of them still close enough that they’re sharing the same air. Dean opens his eyes to see the tears in Cas’s eyes and the few that began running down his face. He reaches his hands up to cup Cas’s face and brush the tears with his thumbs, his face bearing a look of concern. 

“Babe? What’s wrong? Is everything ok?” Dean asked carefully, his eyebrows pinched and his breath shaky. 

Cas stood there, still with tears in his eyes. He laid his hands over Dean’s.  
“Yeah Dean,” -sniffles- “Everything’s great. Absolutely perfect.” He looked up at Dean’s face. “Say, I uh, set up the air mattress in the bedroom, if you erm…” 

Dean took Cas’s hands and wrapped them around the back of his neck then reached down to Cas’s ass to pick him up off the floor. Cas wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist and kissed him deeply again. Dean started carrying Cas back towards their bedroom. 

“Don’t drop me,” Cas whispers against Dean’s lips before going back to kissing him. 

“I’m going to drop you,” Dean had stopped walking, they were in the bedroom now. Cas had been able to find a couple of pallets outside and brought them in to set the air mattress on top of so that they wouldn’t sleep on the floor. 

“Dean, is the air ma-” *whump* “-ttress going to hold me?” Cas asked as Dean dropped him onto the air mattress that did hold him. 

Dean crawled on the mattress until he was over Cas, eye to eye, his hands on either side of Cas’s face with Cas’s fingers back in his hair. He bent down and gently kissed Cas, his best friend, his lover, his partner. 

Their kisses deepened and grew more urgent. Dean laid down on top of Cas, using his knee to spread Cas’s legs. Dean felt Cas’s arousal against his own. Cas rocked his hips up, eliciting a soft moan from the other man.   
Dean began moving down Cas’s neck, leaving kisses and bites down to his shirt collar. He sat back on his heels and lightly gripped the bottom of Cas’s shirt. 

“Hey babe, help me a little here.” - Dean tilted his head down towards the bottom of Cas’s shirt. Cas pushed himself up so that he was sitting with Dean straddled over his lap. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pushed it up over his head, barely breaking eye contact with Dean. 

Cas then grabbed the bottom of Dean’s shirt, lifting it off over his head and tossed it on the floor next to their bed. He ran his hands over Dean’s chest, taking in the landscape of muscles and scars, his fingers lightly lingering over Dean’s waist as he tilted his head up to continue kissing Dean.  
Cas let his hands wander down to Dean’s jeans, slipping his fingers under the waistband, slowly unbuttoning the button, then pulling down the zipper. He slid his hands past the elastic on Dean’s underwear until he was able to grip Dean’s ass in both hands. He pulled Dean’s hips closer to him until he could feel Dean’s erection against his own. Without taking his lips off of Dean’s, he pushed his jeans down to his knees and palmed Dean through his boxers.   
One hand sliding down Dean’s boxers and lightly gripping his cock, Cas used his other to turn them both so Dean was on his back. Pausing momentarily to remove the rest of their clothing, Cas quickly climbed back on top of Dean, straddling his hips and looking down at the man laying on the air mattress underneath him. 

Dean was always attractive and beautiful, but his lust filled eyes and bruised lips were something different. Cas surveyed Dean’s body, fingers lightly brushing and scraping against his nipples. Dean pulled him back down on top of him and skin-to-skin contact brought a sharp gasp out of Cas. Their cocks trapped between their bodies and providing a source of much needed friction for the both of them. Cas bent his head down to kiss Dean, to slip his tongue between his lips and taste the man underneath him. Dean moaned into Cas, the sliding of their leaking cocks past each other was building an animalistic need in Dean to claim this man as his own. Blindly, Dean fumbled through the bag next to the bed for lube and a condom. 

“Babe, I'll get it,” Cas whispered against Dean’s lips. He pulled away, lifting his head to search through the bag. Dean slid his hand down from Cas’s shoulder down to his cock, teasing the sensitive head causing Cas to gasp and shiver. He had the small bottle in his hand until Dean lightly squeezed his balls and he dropped the bottle out of surprises and pleasure. 

“Damn honeybee, what’s taking you so long? The bottle was right on top.” Dean said with a sarcastic lilt to his voice and a tiny sneer on his face. 

“Dean Michael, if you don’t behave then I’ll just have to get started without you.” Cas replied in a sing-songy tone. 

“Well, I can’t have that now, can I?” Dean grabbed Cas around his waist and pulled him back down so the two of them were on their sides, facing each other. 

Cas cupped his hand under Dean’s chin and tilted his face towards him until their eyes met. Cas pulled Dean down to his lips a tender, almost chaste kiss. Cas broke the kiss, but left his hand on Dean’s face. The two laid there for a second, their shallow breaths deepening as they took in the full view of their lover laying before them. Cas took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak. 

“Dean, I need to ask you something. We’ve been together for almost 4 years now and … well… we’re both clean because we’ve never slept with other people and I want - youtofuckmewithoutacondom” Cas squeaked out. 

“You- want me to fuck you? Without a condom?” Dean asked warily, his eyes widening. 

“Yes, Dean, I’ve thought about this a lot and I know I don’t usually bottom but you mean the world to me and you made such a big sacrifice for me and I never want anything or anyone else. I just want to feel you, and only you.” Cas said, confidently, as if he had rehearsed this statement 10 times before. 

“Babe, yes ok I’m with you, of course.” Dean said with an ear-to-ear smile on his face. “I love you, Cas.” Dean reached to cup Cas’s face and pull him in for a tender kiss 

He grabbed the lube from Cas and coated his fingers. He rolled Cas onto his back and moved to reach Cas’s hole, gently pressing in one finger. Cas gasped and Dean froze. Once Cas gave him a nod to go ahead, Dean placed one hand by Cas’s head and leaned down to kiss him, still working his two fingers in and out of Cas with skilled ease. Their bodies were accustomed to working together and Cas was quickly pushing back against Dean, whimpering and begging for more. Dean added a third finger, pumping and scissoring Cas open. After working a fourth finger in, he broke their kiss and removed his hand to coat his own cock in lube. Cas spread his legs more as Dean lined himself up. He ever so slowly pushed in, easing his way past that tight ring of muscle until he finally hit home. Dean paused and took several slow breaths to ready himself for the pure sensation and heat that was Cas. Cas saw stars when Dean bottomed out, the solid pressure of Dean inside of him was the feeling he had hoped for. Nothing between the two of them, just them in this moment. 

“Dean, fucking move.” Cas commanded once he had caught his breath. 

Dean didn’t need to be told twice, slowly pulling out of Cas until he was almost completely out of him, before slamming back in. Nearly hitting that spot on his first try. Cas’s vision whited out and he gripped Dean’s back and shoulders to ground himself. He knew that there would be fingertip shaped bruises and scratches down Dean’s back when all was said and done, but hey, more evidence of his claim on him right?   
On his next pump, Dean did find Cas’s prostate, each roll of his hips now pulling gasps and moans out of the other man. Cas wrapped his legs around Dean’s wasit, keeping him as close as possible. 

A symphony of gasps and moans filled their tiny apartment. Feeling how close he was, Dean reached down and started stroking Cas in time with his thrusts. Cas’s body stiffened, gripping Dean’s waist between his legs as he climaxed. Dean finished right after Cas; he pulled out and, feeling boneless, flopped down on the air mattress next to Cas. 

“Cas, fuck,” Dean whispered in Cas’s ear, “I love you so much, you know that right?”

“Of course I do, Dean” - Cas closed his eyes and tightened his grip in Dean’s hair - “I love you too. Thank you for moving here with me. It means the world to me.” 

“Hell yeah honeybee, of course I came here with you,” - Dean rolled his head up so that he could meet Cas’s eyes - “I’d follow you into the dark if you asked me.” Dean leaned forward and placed a light, tiny kiss on the end of Cas’s nose. 

Cas fell asleep next to Dean hoping that he meant what he said, that he would follow him anywhere and through anything.


	4. Thanksgiving 2019

Dean sat in Castiel’s car in silence, the two of them cruising through the small streets of Boston with only the soft music coming out of the radio to interrupt the otherwise deafening quiet inside the car. His seat was pushed all the way back so he could stretch out his injured leg. He lounged in the passenger seat, one arm propped on the edge of the windowsill. After a few minutes of gazing absent-mindedly out of the window, Dean allowed his eyes to wander around the inside of the car. 

Man, it’s exactly the same… Just a stethoscope hanging from the rearview mirror instead of that ratty dreamcatcher and a couple more textbooks in the backseat but other than that? Exactly the same. Dean thought to himself before shifting his gaze over to Castiel. 

Castiel sat closer to the dash than Dean was, so his eyes were able to linger and take him in without his noticing. The soft, muted winter sunlight shone into the car, creating a sharp contrast to the dark coloring of his hair. The light blue of his scrubs brought out the color in his eyes, emphasizing the subtle, sky blue tendrils of color that shone through the otherwise deep midnight-blue. Castiel drove with his left hand on the wheel and his right arm stretched out towards the middle console of the car. His right hand settled near the gear shifter, empty, as though waiting for Dean to reach out and thread his fingers between his and lightly grip his hand. 

Dean’s mind was racing, he didn’t want to admit to himself how comforting a presence Castiel was. He knew that, reasonably, he should still be angry and hurt, and distrustful; but yet, being this close to him again was reassuring, like coming home after being lost. The smell of his sandalwood body wash, the way he tapped on the steering wheel along with the beat to the music, and the sound of his rumbling voice as he complained about the other drivers tugged on Dean’s heartstrings. He hadn’t dwelled on these little traits for over two years, because he knew that he was in love with Castiel for these little things that filled out who he was. 

He shook his head slightly from side to side in an attempt to force these thoughts to leave him. He couldn’t allow himself to get comfortable around Castiel again. Castiel was just driving him back here out of doctorly niceness, not because he was interested in creating anything with him again. He had made it abundantly clear that he did not have time for Dean and his baggage; that he left because Dean was sinking and wouldn’t accept the life preservers that were being thrown to him. Dean knew that if Castiel hadn’t left when he did, that he would have sunk too. There was no way he could risk hurting Castiel like that again. 

\--

As they turned onto Dean’s street, his stomach dropped and his heart clenched in the anticipation of having Castiel back inside his apartment. Castiel pulled the car to a stop and looked over at Dean, whose eyes were glued to the living room window of his second-story place. 

“Dean? Did you hear me?” Castiel asked, placing a hand lightly on Dean’s shoulder.   
“What?” - Dean snapped his head back towards Castiel, completely unaware that the man had been talking to him - “Sorry, what did you say?”  
“I was asking if you were ready?”  
“Oh, uh” - he cleared his throat- “Ha, Hell Yeah! Let’s go!” Dean turned away to open his door. 

By the time Dean got his door open and both feet out of the car, Castiel was standing there in front of him, holding his crutches. He offered Dean a hand out of the car and Dean tentatively reached out his hand to accept this gesture. As Castiel returned to the driver’s side to lock up, Dean steadily made his way over to the front of his building and climbed up the four steps that led up to the front door. He reached in his pocket for his keys and was overcome with a wave of vertigo. The blood rushed to his head and his vision blurred for a second; and he felt himself tipping backward off the top step when suddenly, Castiel caught him. 

“Dean-” Castiel’s voice came out in a sharp hiss- “this is why I wanted someone with you for a couple of days.” He stabilized Dean on his feet then dropped his hands back to his side. “It’s common for people with concussions to become very dizzy, especially when they exert themselves trying to go upstairs.” 

Dean stared at Castiel for a moment. He had a witty response queued up about how Castiel just wanted an excuse to get his hands on him, but he refrained; this was not the time for casual flirting. He finally tore his eyes away from the concerned look plastered on Castiel’s face for long enough to unlock the front door of the building. The two made their way inside and stopped at the bottom of the main staircase. 

“Dean, look, I know that you only live on the second floor, but I want you to let me help you up the stairs.” Castiel turned toward Dean and spoke softly. He knew that this was going to be a fight with Dean based on past experiences with his complete refusal of any kind of assistance. 

“Ok, yeah, I totally understand. I could get dizzy on the stairs and the extra effort on my body to try to balance and keep the forward momentum up the stairs is not good for my injured brain right now, I get it, man.” Dean replied in a cool, even voice. He had been working with his therapist, Pam, on accepting help from others and recognizing that he wasn’t less of a man for asking for help, or that he was unworthy of the help that was offered him. Besides, it was totally worth the look of utter shock and admiration that spread across Castiel’s face when he realized what Dean had said and that he wasn’t going to have to fight with the man for his own good 

Despite this display of growth and self-confidence, the pinprick of anxiety that had formed in Dean’s chest during the car ride turned into an enormous weight that he wasn’t sure how he’d carry up these stairs with him. The thought of Castiel wrapping his arm around Dean’s waist to half carry him up to his second-floor apartment was enough to turn his legs to jelly and cause his stomach to flip. 

Castiel stepped over to Dean and carefully wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist, he looked up at Dean to gauge his reaction to this physical touch. When he didn’t protest, Castiel took Dean’s arm and wrapped it around his shoulders. 

Castiel’s touch was gentle but firm. Heat was radiating from his body and Dean’s heart rate slowed, beating at a more regular rate. He took deep breaths, breathing in the smell of Castiel’s shampoo, and the memories of waking up to find Castiel wrapped around his body with the same body heat and woodsy smell came flooding back. Dean turned his head away from Castiel, focusing on the stairs in front of him. 

The two of them began up the staircase, slowly and cautiously. Castiel let Dean set the pace as they climbed. They were only a couple of steps up when Dean’s head began to throb. His breathing roughened and he groped for the handrail to his side. He felt Castiel stiffen next to him, obviously able to sense the difference in Dean’s behavior. He kept his eyes down, concentrating on the pale green carpet that lined the stairs. As they continued up the stairs, Dean could feel each heartbeat pump through his head. His vision blurred and he paused, he looked up and exhaled sharply in disappointment. They were barely halfway up the staircase. 

“Dean? Are you okay?” Castiel whispered into Dean’s ear.  
“Uh, yeah” -Dean took a deep breath- “my head just hurts and I can’t believe we’ve only done like, 6 freakin stairs,” Dean replied, matched Castiel’s tone and volume.   
“Will you let me help you?” Castiel turned his gaze to Dean’s face. When Dean met his eyes, he could see the pleading that was there.   
“Yeah, actually that would be great. Thank you.” Dean said with a soft nod to Castiel. 

Castiel’s eyes glistened as he realized that Dean welcomed his help. He grabbed Dean’s arm and shifted Dean next to him so that more of his weight was on himself. He tightened his grip around Dean’s waist and waited for Dean to start them up the stairs again. 

When Dean took his next step, he was only a little surprised to find that Castiel had taken most of his weight off his feet. Dean taking steps up these stairs was only a formality because Castiel was essentially carrying him. He was thankful that Castiel left his feet on the floor, while he recognized that he would not have made it up to his apartment without Castiel’s help, he still felt a little ashamed that he was still relying on this man to carry more than his fair share of weight. He was glad that he could at least pretend to do something for himself. 

\--

The nostalgia-inducing effect of Castiel’s touch was lifted when he untangled himself from Dean. As he stood there fumbling to get his keys into the lock, Dean’s anxiety mounted. 

How could I let myself get that distracted? Come on Dean, this is just business, just a doctor making sure his patient gets home safe. No more of that chick-flick crap.

Finally, Dean was able to get his key in the lock and they stepped into his apartment. He dropped his keys on the entry table and quickly crutched down the hallway and into the living room. He managed to turn and -whump- down onto the sofa by the time Castiel stepped into the living room. 

“Wow, Dean, this looks exactly the same, you didn’t change much did you? - Castiel asked looking around the room - “I’m not sure what I expected the place to look like but I’m really glad to be back in here.”

Dean shifted in his seat, desperately trying to find a way to get comfortable in his living room while Castiel walked around. His fingers found their way to the buttons on his flannel and he began to worry one between his fingers. Dean sat there on the couch with flashes of panic running through his head.   
He had spent the last two years contemplating the design of his apartment. He liked the furniture that he and Castiel had bought together and he liked the way they were arranged in the apartment. This didn’t have anything to do with Castiel, but that stupid Japanese flow thing. Everything flowed in this room and throughout the entire space, but was this going to betray his feelings? Was Castiel going to think that Dean kept everything the same in case he ever came back? Had Dean changed enough? Had Dean changed too much? He chewed on his bottom lip as he watched Castiel approach the small strip of wall that connected the living room and the kitchen.   
The wall there wasn’t structurally important and only served to separate the two rooms rather than allowing an open floor plan to exist. The only thing on this wall was a small nail that protruded over a bare splotch of slightly discolored paint. Dean swallowed hard when Castiel paused in front of this space. There was no way for Dean to know for sure what was going through Castiel’s head but he could see from the way that his smile didn’t make it to his eyes and the false light behind those beautiful, blue irises that he had been surprised by this one change to the apartment. The only thing that Dean had been able to remove had been a framed photograph of the two of them on the day that they moved in. The photo that Dean had taken in front of the apartment taunted him in the months following their breakup, he couldn’t begin to move on and repair himself with the constant reminder that despite all of the hope and love and dedication that they had started with, that they had failed each other. 

Castiel turned away from the bare nail and crossed the living room in swift strides and with a strained smile spread across his face. He sat down in the chair off to Dean’s left. 

Dean sank further into the sofa, wanting nothing more than for this moment to end. Neither man knew what to say to each other, leaving the apartment in thick anticipation. After several, long minutes, Dean cleared his throat. 

“Hey, uh, thanks for bringing me home, you didn’t have to go through all that just for me,” Dean said, turning towards Castiel and resting his arm on the edge of the couch, “I know you have a life and better things to do than make house calls.”   
“Of course, Dean, and honestly? I had nothing else planned for today so I’m not missing anything to be here. Besides” -Castiel reached out and placed a hand over Dean’s - “I meant what I said about reconnecting and”-Castiel was interrupted by the sound of keys clinking in the hall and a lock being turned in the front door. He looked down at his hand resting on Dean’s and pulled it back to his chest as though he had burned it. 

“DEAN WINCHESTER YOU NO-GOOD COMMUNICATING SON OF A-” - the front door slammed and the full-bodied voice of Joanna Beth filled the small apartment as she busted through the entry hall into the living room - ”BITCH!” 

Jo stopped in her tracks when she caught the sight of Castiel Novack sitting in an armchair just feet away from an injured Dean. Her oversized purse slipping off her shoulder, catching at her elbow. Her mouth dropped open in quiet disbelief as her gaze switched back and forth between Dean and Castiel. She scrunched her forehead and pinched her eyebrows together as Dean could see the wheels turning in her head, trying to piece together the scene that was there in front of her. 

“Joanna Beth, if you keep your mouth open like that you’re gonna catch flies,” Dean said to her, his deep voice cutting through the tension hanging in the room like a hot knife through butter. “Castiel was the doctor that fixed me up at the hospital and apparently my concussion is severe enough that I’m not supposed to be left alone for a day or two, so he brought me home until you could get here. And now that you’re here, he is relieved of his babysitting duty and can head home. Jo, go ahead and leave the food in the kitchen, please” He held her gaze and gestured lazily towards the kitchen. 

Jo shut her mouth, her eyes locked on Castiel as she dropped her bag in the living room. She turned on her heel and left the room to busy herself in the kitchen. Dean and Castiel sat in silence in the living room and listened to the clattering of flatware and slamming of cabinet doors in the kitchen. 

Dean knew that he should ask Castiel to leave, that this day had stretched out for far too long and he needed rest, but there was something about his being here that was… comfortable and familiar. Despite the pain that Dean still felt whenever he thought about this other man, and the weight that was currently resting on his chest, Dean didn’t know if he wanted Castiel to leave. Dean’s discomfort must have been painted across his face, because after only a handful of seconds sitting in silence, Castiel awkwardly and sheepishly picked up his things. 

“Uh, well, Dean, I think that I should be on my way. I’m sure you’re exhausted and I have some case reports that I need to get started on.” Castiel said in a tiny voice that betrayed the casual look he was attempting to display.   
“I hope that you think about what I said at the hospital” -Castiel worried one of the buttons on his trench coat between two of his fingers - “I would really like to get a cup of coffee or something sometime if you ever feel up to it.”

“Yeah, sure thing man, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for bringing me home and helping me with the stairs,” Dean replied, tilting his head up towards Castiel’s, meeting his gaze. 

Dean maintained a cautious smile on his face as he said goodbye to Castiel but then dropped his face in exhaustion as Castiel rounded the corner to say goodbye to Jo in the kitchen. Dean lifted his head when he heard a scuffle and a bang in the kitchen. He quickly gathered his crutches and limped out of the living room. As he entered the kitchen, he found Jo with the largest knife Dean had in his kitchen, and a look in her eyes that would smite Castiel where he stood if she possessed that kind of power spread across her delicate features. Castiel carefully and quietly took his leave. 

Dean and Jo stood silently in the kitchen for several moments. His eyes locked on Jo with a glare of questioning indignance which she returned this gaze with equal stubbornness. After a pause, she gave a huff of exasperation and placed the knife back on the counter before brushing past Dean on her way out of the kitchen. Dean shook his head and forced himself to remember that while he was willing to give Castiel a chance to have a small place in his life again, his family would not be so quick to change their opinion of him; that they would make that man fight his way out of hell before they accepted him back into their good graces. He looked down towards his feet and smiled softly at the thought of his protective family before turning back out of the kitchen. 

Jo returned to the living room and silently sat in the same chair that Castiel had just vacated. She sat there not saying a word until Dean took a seat on the couch. Dean shifted uneasily in his seat, feeling the intensity of her accusing stare. 

“OK FINE, HE WAS THE DOCTOR THAT TOOK CARE OF ME AT THE HOSPITAL WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME JO?” Dean spilled, his resolve breaking.   
“WHY WAS HE HERE?” Jo yelled back, matching Dean’s tone and throwing her arms out in exasperation.   
Dean took a deep breath, “Jo, he was getting off his shift and offered to drive me home. I told him that he didn’t have to, that I’d call an uber and I would be fine. He countered by telling me that he was worried, from a medical perspective” - he held a hand up to Jo to stop her from interrupting- “that my concussion was too severe to leave me alone for a couple of days and that I shouldn’t be trying to go upstairs on my own for a little bit.” 

He looked to Jo to gauge her reaction and when he saw that she was waiting to speak until he had finished, he continued. 

“And you know, he was right, Jo. I couldn’t even make it up the steps to the front door without getting so dizzy that I almost fell back down them. And there is no way I would have made it up those stairs” - he gestured over his shoulder towards the front door- “anytime today without his help. He essentially carried me up them and made sure that I got back in here safely.” 

The two sat in silence once again, Dean looked up at the ceiling to avoid Jo’s eyes and inhaled deeply to settle his breathing. He knew that Jo would spread the news that Castiel had been here and the thought of defending this act of kindness to his family was overwhelming. Especially since he was not playing with a full deck of cards at the moment due to his concussion. When he dropped his eyes and looked back at Jo, she had a soft expression on her face, as though she was totally relaxed. 

“You ok, bud?” Jo asked quietly, tilting her head to the side.   
“Yeah” - Dean sniffed hard - “I’m good”.   
“Ok good,” Jo replied quickly, jumping up from her seat and crowding Dean on the couch. She whipped out her phone and faster than Dean’s injured brain could comprehend, was FaceTiming Sam.

“SAMMY!!! You would NOT BELIEVE who I found in Dean’s apartment with him today!” Jo screamed into the phone, barely giving Sam the opportunity to answer the call. Dean shot Jo a glare and felt the color and heat rise to his cheeks.   
“Heya Jo! Happy Thanksgiving” - Sam waved into the camera -” Uh, I guess I don’t even know where to guess?”   
“Dean? Do you want to tell your brother about your day today?” Jo turned towards Dean, putting him on the spot and causing the color in his face to deepen and reach his hairline.   
“Sure Jo, why the hell not” - Dean took the phone from Jo -” Heya Sammy, so don’t worry or anything, but I kinda, sorta went to the ER today for stitches, a broken bone, and a concussion…” Dean trailed off at the end, looking down at his lap.   
Sam was silent for a moment, his mouth open wide and this his eyebrows raised.   
“Dean you WHAT?? You went to the emergency room?! And you didn’t call me?” Sam looked off-camera and waved someone over. Jess sat down next to Sam and entered the frame.   
“Jess, Dean went to the ER today and this is the first I’m hearing of it.” - Sam whipped his head back from Jess and stared intensely at Dean through the camera- “Wait, Jo called me to tell me about who she found in your apartment, what does that have to do with you going to the hospital?”  
“Well Sammy” - Dean looked back up at the camera, biting his thumbnail before speaking again -” I was getting there. It turns out that Castiel is still in Boston and is working at Boston Medical Center, along with the lovely Jessica Moore here.” Dean took a deep breath, matching Sam’s stare until the taller man looked away.   
“Yeah while I was getting patched up, Castiel asked where you were and when I told him that you and your girlfriend were visiting our folks back in Kansas, he asked me if it was Jessica Moore by any chance, because wouldn’t you know it? Castiel and Jess work together!” Dean said, pulling the phone closer in until Jo was no longer in sight of the camera. 

Sam and Jess were quiet for a minute, both glancing at each other in desperate hope that something one of them could say would get them out of this hole they had dug with Dean.   
Finally, Jess took the phone from Sam and squared her shoulders to answer Dean. 

“Hey Dean, Castiel and I do work together. I’ve known who he is ever since Sam met me at the hospital one day and saw Castiel at the nurses’ station. Sam explained who he was to me and both he and I decided not to tell you that I worked with him. Now Dean, listen to me, “ Jess stated in an authoritative tone, she could see Dean’s eyes widen and his mouth open in protest, “Sam and I had good reason to do it. Dean, I didn’t know you and Castiel together, and I didn’t know you right after the breakup. But I’ve known you for almost two years now and I’ve seen how hard you have been working to get back on your feet.” - Jess sniffled and blinked hard to fight back tears that were forming in her eyes - “Dean, I found out who Castiel was early on in my relationship with Sam, I didn’t want you to associate me with him, to think that I was as close to him as I was to you, or that I talked about you to him because I don’t. Dean, I just wanted our relationship to work and be fun and easygoing and it wouldn’t have been if you knew that I knew Castiel.” Jess looked away from the camera and wiped at her cheeks. She took several moments to breathe and calm down before returning to Dean. 

“Look, you can be upset with us for protecting you or for trying to. But I don’t regret what we did and if I could do it again, I would. I’m so proud of you and the progress you’ve made. Don’t blame Sam and me for being worried about you.” Jess said, her eyes red-rimmed and her mouth turned up in a small smile that let Dean know how much she loved him. 

Dean looked over at Sam on the screen, then to Jo sitting at his side. He wanted to be upset that his family was tripping over themselves to protect him, that they had kept such a big secret from him, but he knew that their intentions were in the right place. He knew that his family would break down the doors to hell for him and he needed to trust them. Even Dean could not deny that he hadn’t been in the proper headspace to know what Castiel was doing or where he was until this point. 

“Ok,” Dean said, this one syllable response of his made everyone raise their eyebrows in surprise. “I hear you, I don’t like that y’all kept a secret and essentially lied to me, but I see why you did it. I don’t like being babied but I can recognize that I probably needed it up until now. But don’t you dare think you can pull this shit with me again. Trust me enough to know what I can and can’t handle, got it?” Dean lowered his eyebrows and glared at all three until he got confirmation from all of them that they capiced.   
\--  
Dean lay awake in his bed that night reflecting on his day. His thoughts wandered from how close he was to dying or at least being more severely injured, to his actual injuries and the recovery process ahead of him, then finally to Castiel. He listened to the sounds of cars driving on the street beneath him and the gentle rhythm of Jo’s snores from the next room. The weight of anxiety had finally lifted off his chest and he felt like he was able to breathe normally and think clearly again.  
Seeing Castiel was unexpected, but not unwelcome, Dean thought. After two years of suppressing any and all thoughts about him, to have Castiel back in any way was incredible. As his thoughts drifted through potential futures that featured Castiel, Dean fell asleep in his memory foam mattress with a smile on his face.


	5. December 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A blowout between our boys and the introduction of a fan favorite <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See notes at the end

As Dean crunched through the thin layer of snow already coating the sidewalk, a singular tear escaped his eye, leaving a freezing trail of moisture down his cheek. He reached up and brushed the tear off and pulled his hat down lower on his head. The cold bit and the wind cut through his jacket like it was tissue. Dean left his apartment in a rush and only thought to grab his hat and scarf off the hook by the door, neglecting to retrieve his coat from the hall closet. He trudged through the accumulating snow until he arrived at the front doorstep to Charlie Bradbury’s brownstone. 

He climbed the steps and rang the buzzer to her unit. The harsh BUZZ was answered with a window opening three stories above him, Dean looked straight up at the messy knot of red hair peeking out the window. 

“Heya Babe! What’s going on?” Charlie’s upbeat, cheery voice rang out. She pushed the hair out of her face revealing a wide smile that was spread across her face, created by the unexpected visit of her best friend.   
“Hey Charlie” - Dean raised a hand in a weak wave, his voice strained by the onslaught of sobs that were building in his chest - “I just wanted to stop by and see if you were free for a bit.”   
Dean’s voice cracked on the last word and he looked down at the ground as his resolve broke and tears began streaming down his face. Charlie’s smile disappeared as she realized that Dean was crying on her doorstep. She quickly pulled back from the window, grabbed a blanket off her bed, and raced down the stairs. The entire way down, she tried to piece together what could have happened. Did something bad happen to Cas? Or to Sam? 

Charlie hadn’t known Dean for very long. She just transferred to Cathedral High School this past summer and met him during the in-service workshops held in August. The two quickly became close friends, Dean often joking that if not for Jo, Charlie would be the kid sister he didn’t have and hadn’t asked for. She knew the basic things about Dean Winchester like his greatest responsibilities were to his baby brother in college at Stanford and to his genius, medical student boyfriend. She knew about his love for 70s rock and roll and his prized muscle car left with his family back in Kansas. 

She opened the front door to her building and pulled Dean out of the cold. She took in his appearance, it looked like he barely remembered to throw on shoes before braving the cold, snowy night. Charlie wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and rubbed his arms to warm him up. Despite the thick blanket, she could feel the small vibrations of shivers that Dean’s body was creating. She wrapped one arm around Dean and led him up the stairs to her apartment. Neither of them said a word until they were back inside Charlie’s front hallway. 

“I grabbed the first blanket I could find, sorry if Spock is more your speed,” Charlie said with a soft chuckle and a tilt of her head.   
Dean looked down to find Uhura from Star Trek wrapped around him.   
“Heh, thanks anyway Charles, anything would do right now,” Dean replied, his voice cracking and rough.   
“Well, welcome welcome, Meg is in the living room watching TV so we can hang out in my room?” Charlie nodded her head towards the room off to their side. 

Dean followed her silently into her room, pausing in the doorframe to listen to whatever Meg was yelling in the living room. 

“What do you think you’re doing? Do you really expect to find all that shit in a $200,000 house? Also, what - the - hell? She wants a victorian style and he wants modern? They should not be getting a house together!” Meg was yelling at the television in the other room.   
Dean looked over at Charlie, his eyebrow raised.  
“She’s watching House Hunters, she likes to criticize the couples for the kinds of houses they want. I’ll close the door and please, sit.” Charlie replied, pointing out her bed. 

Charlie stepped over and closed the door behind Dean. She turned back around and found him holding his damp jacket and looking for somewhere to set it down. As he stood there shivering, she was shocked at how small he looked. The Dean she knew and worked with was this large character, this beaming ray of sunshine that somehow knew how to make everyone laugh and was able to shamelessly flirt in a way that left you feeling flattered rather than creeped out or bothered. She looked at her friend standing in her bedroom and wasn’t sure where to start piecing him back together.  
She took the jacket from him and dropped it on the floor. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she turned him around and pushed him to sit on the corner of her bed. She bent to remove Dean’s salt-covered boots. He moved up into the bed and Charlie covered him with the comforter on her bed. He pulled the blanket up to his chin, an act that pulled on her heartstrings. She walked over to the other side of the bed and added another blanket on top of Dean, one that was large and plush. She scooted into the bed next to him and sat with her back against her headboard. Dean curled up next to Charlie and rested his head against her shoulder. They sat there for a while, with Charlie’s arms wrapped around Dean and her head resting on top of his. She ran one hand through his hair and the other was rubbing his shoulder. 

“So? Boy troubles?” She asked softly, almost whispering. 

Dean eased himself out of her arms and adjusted so that he could sit up next to her in the bed. 

“How’d you guess?” Dean responded, wiping the dried tears from his face.   
“Well, I was able to narrow it down to either Cas or Sam. And I figured that if something was wrong with Sam that you wouldn’t be able to shut up about it. But with Cas? You seem to shut down a little bit more when something is going on with him.” Charlie stated, folding her hands in her lap and looking over at Dean. 

“Huh” - he shook his head - “ I didn’t know I was that easy to read.” Dean took a deep breath, “Yeah, we had a big fight tonight and I’m just feeling kind of lost. I don’t really want to talk about the fight itself right now.”   
“Ok” - Charlie reached up to place a hand on Dean’s shoulder - “We don’t have to talk about the fight but I do want to help you find yourself again in this relationship, you said you felt lost?”  
Dean gulped. “Ah, yeah. Lost. What a concept, I feel so good with where I am, I love my job, I love where I live, I love my friends’ - he reached up and gave her hand a soft squeeze - “and god, Charlie, I love Cas so much.” Dean leaned away from Charlie, shaking his head. 

“Charlie,” - Dean turned to face her and took both of her hands in his - “I love him so much, I would move heaven and earth for him. I’d take on the wrath of hell and whatever lies in the depths of the night as long as I had him by my side. But lately? It feels like he’s taking me for granted, like he’s slipping away from me.   
He comes home and grabs the plate I made him for dinner and retreats into the office to work. And I know he is a busy student, I know that he is up to his hairline in assignments and tests and studying, but I don’t deserve 30 minutes of his day? I don’t deserve help cleaning the kitchen? I don’t deserve to be asked how MY DAY was?” The tears are streaming down Dean’s face unimpeded as he becomes more and more breathless, more frenzied in his recounting. 

Dean is shocked at how easily the words flow out of his mouth and roll off his tongue, as though the dam holding them back had been cracked for a while and tonight was the final crack. He closed his eyes, tilted his head up towards the ceiling, and took a deep breath. He was able to steady himself, able to prepare himself to open himself up to someone other than Cas. He opened his eyes and sat up in the bed, crossing his legs criss-cross to face Charlie. 

“I surprised him with my job offer in Boston, he got into medical school up here and I started applying for jobs without telling him. I had a couple of phone interviews and the one at Cathedral stuck.” Dean said, taking Charlie back to the beginning of his and Cas’s life in Boston. “I pitched him this idea of us moving in together, here, I told him that I had a good-paying job to support us for a while and his savings should be enough for the initial deposits and whatnot. I told him this fully expecting to financially support the both of us for 4 years until Cas was out of med school. What I did not expect was to become a push-over roommate or friend with benefits that he could fuck every once in a while when he felt like it.” 

Dean spit the last few words out and looked away from Charlie, ashamed. His neck turned a bright pink color from the embarrassment of admitting how his partner treated him. The combination of anger at his position and of his admission of a problem turned his stomach, all he wanted was to curl into himself and hide.   
His thoughts turned on him, rather than saying these things about Cas, maybe Dean should have just kept his mouth shut and accepted his lot in life. It’s not like he should have expected anything better for himself. John Winchester was right in saying that his only purpose was to keep Sammy safe and happy. 

“Dean,” - Charlie placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and shook him gently- “babe, get out of your head. What is going on in there?” 

Dean whipped around to look at Charlie, his eyes were wide and glassy. Her concern was spread across her face, the crinkle between her eyebrows, her lips softly turned down at the corners, her eyes tracking Dean’s as they moved around the room in a desperate attempt to avoid making contact with her. 

“I have one important question for you,” She said in a stern tone that managed to pull Dean’s attention away from the Star Trek Timeline Poster on her wall and back on her. “Dean, do you love Castiel still?”  
“Yes, of course,” Dean sputtered out with no hesitation. “I love him with everything I have, I can’t imagine not having him.”   
“Ok, now that we have that one out of the way. Why do you love him? How is he contributing to this relationship? How does he meet your expectations and perceptions of a partner?” Charlie asked, leaning back and crossing her arms across her chest. 

“Oof, what a line of questioning,” Dean replied as he inhaled deep, stealing a few moments to collect his thoughts. “Up until recently, Cas was incredibly supportive of my work and what I was doing. He would come home and seemed to be genuinely interested in my day. He would sit and eat dinner with me, then get up to clear the table and wash the dishes before retreating off into the office to do more assignments. He was everything I could have hoped for and more in a partner, he understood my need to take care of people but wasn’t afraid to tell me when I needed to back off and let him take care of himself.” Dean paused and worried the hem of his shirt between his hands, anxiously looking for anything to distract his hands from this conversation. Charlie looked down and quickly brought her head up to scan her nightstand for something to replace Dean’s shirt. She handed him a hairband and he began twisting and untwisting it. 

“For the longest time, I didn’t think I deserved someone who would take care of me,” Dean continued, “I believed that my lot in life was to parent Sam and that my happiness didn’t matter, and frankly? Some days I’m still not convinced that it does. But Cas made me want to believe that, he makes me happier than I ever envisioned myself being. I want to be better for him, I want to want to be valued.” - Dean gestured with his hands, placing them on his chest, breathless- “For the first several years we were together, I pushed myself to see myself in a fraction of the light that Cas did. It was my main motivation to work through my shit and my past issues, but now? I don’t feel like a partner” - Dean dropped his hands into his lap, his eyes following them down- “ I feel like a parent again, like someone to mechanically cook, clean, and keep a roof over Cas’s head without his help.” 

“Do you think he knows you feel this way? Have you told him?” Charlie said, leaning forward and down to meet Dean’s eyes, “and I mean really told him, not just passive-aggressively grumbled around the apartment until he noticed.”

Dean’s quiet answered her question. She rubbed his back and left the question hanging in the air for him to think about.   
\--

The snow outside was beginning to slow when Dean’s phone vibrated in his pocket. As he fumbled under the blankets to retrieve his phone from his pocket, he knew it was Cas that was calling him. His guess was confirmed when he saw Cas’s name and face spread across his phone screen. He silenced the vibration but let the call continue to ring. 

Dean laid his head back on Charlie's shoulder and felt her questioning gaze boring a hole into his scalp. 

“He’s gonna leave a message and I’d rather listen to it or read the transcript thing my phone’ll give me rather than have him stumble over his words on a live call,” Dean explained, closing his eyes and waiting for voicemail to pick up the call. 

After another minute, Dean finally got the notification that he’d received a new voicemail. He typed in his phone passcode, his heart seizing as he put in their anniversary date to unlock the sleek device Castiel gave him for his birthday nearly a year ago. He selected the phone icon and pulled up the most recent voicemail. His finger lingered over Cas’s name, hesitating before playing the message. He placed the phone up to his ear and held his breath. 

Hello, Dean. - Cas sniffled and cleared his throat- I uhh, really messed up tonight. I wish I hadn’t needed a whole fight and event to get that message but I did. You were right to call me out, but I think that we both crossed lines tonight. I don’t think that you should have left tonight the way that you did. I wish that you had stayed and finished the fight with me. Because Dean - Cas’s voice broke and he swallowed back tears - watching you leave took the fight out of me, I realized that there was nothing worse than that. I can’t bring myself to watch you leave me again, so, please come back tonight. I know that you need your time, I understand. I don’t want to rush you but please come home tonight. I just want you under this roof when we both fall asleep. Please text me when you’re on your way back, the weather is awful and I worry. I’ll wait up for you. - Cas took a long pause, he inhaled deep - I love you, Dean. 

Dean sniffled and rubbed away the tears that were forming in his eyes again. He looked up at the clock on Charlie’s nightstand.10:24 pm. Charlie let him in around 8 and he sat on her bed trying to work out whether two and a half hours had been enough time to work himself up to facing Cas again. 

“Hey, Charlie? Can I ask you for a quick favor?” Dean asked, sitting up straight in her bed and turning to face her.   
“Yeah, Deanie Beanie, of course, what’s up?” Charlie answered, turning around in his bed and crossing her legs underneath her.   
“Cas asked me to come home tonight and I think I’m almost ready to go back. I’m just really tired and I was wondering if I could take a quick nap here? Like an hour? Would you wake me up and make sure I get on my way home tonight?” Dean asked, squeaking out his request, weary of her answer.   
“Dean, look at me” - Charlie took Dean’s chin in her hand and tilted his head so that his eyes met hers. - “if this is what you think is best for you tonight, then of course. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.” 

She reached over and pulled him close to her, wrapping both arms around him and holding him there. He relaxed into her touch and slipped his hands around her and held on tightly. Charlie pulled out of the hug and got up to dim the lights in her room and to set a timer on her phone. 

“One hour Mister! 11:30.” - she tapped her wrist and raised her eyebrows at him - “then you gotta get outta here and patch things up with Dr. Sexy In-Training!” She smirked and quietly left the room, closing the door behind her. 

\--  
The hour passed in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Dean hadn’t slept, not that he expected to. He asked Charlie for the time to gather his thoughts, to prepare himself for this conversation with Cas. His mind whirred like a broken machine, flashes of the potential outcomes for this conversation danced through his brain. Dean knew that he should give Cas the benefit of the doubt, that he would probably take this conversation and Dean’s concerns seriously and not storm out. Or he would decide that Dean wasn’t worth the trouble, that he wasn’t the push-over caretaker that he had signed up for. Despite his better judgment, this was the conclusion Dean had settled on. 

The muted chime of Charlie’s phone timer went off in the other room. Dean sat up in the bed and waited for her to come tell him that it was time to go home, to confront Cas. He dressed and retied the laces of his boots. Charlie pulled him down to her height and wrapped him in the tightest hug she could give, and sent him on his way with good luck. Little did she know that the decision Dean made was not the same one she had in mind. Dean decided while laying in her bed, that he would stay silent on the issue. That he would rather stay in an unequal partnership than be alone. His perception of what he deserved left him with only those two options. The depths of his mind told him that no one who stayed with him this long would tolerate being asked to change or consider his emotional needs. Not when his only job was to care for others, to protect them, and to provide for them. 

Dean stepped out of Charlie’s building and into the cold. He fished his cell phone out of his pants pocket and sent Cas a message. 

Hey. On my way back to the apartment, should be about 15 minutes. 

He nearly had his phone back in his pocket when he felt it vibrate. 

Please be safe in the snow, see you soon. 

Love you. 

He smiled softly at the messages, knowing that Cas was sincere in his concern for Dean in the weather. He returned the phone to his pocket and started on his way. His doubt for his plan built in his mind with every step he took closer to home. Maybe he should try, try to fight for his own happiness. He probably wasn’t giving Cas the credit he deserved, he probably wasn’t giving himself the credit he deserved. 

Dean’s thoughts carried him the entire walk home. He was still struggling by the time he was outside his apartment door, his keys in his hand. He slowly raised his hand up and as he slid the key into the lock, Dean’s heart clenched and his mouth went dry as sandpaper. He turned the key and stepped through the door. 

The apartment was dark except for a soft, warm glow from the living room. Dean stepped into the front hall, toeing his boots off and leaving them behind on the entry mat. He crept through the darkened hallway, following the scent of vanilla and the quiet plucking of gentle music. Dean recognized the music, the acoustics, and the singer’s voice, but he couldn’t place it immediately. He turned the corner into the living room to find Castiel sitting on the floor with his back resting against their overstuffed armchair, his hair wet from a recent shower and his lower lip red from his anxious picking. 

Dean took in the rest of the room. Soft yellow string lights lined the base of walls and ran around the entire room, softening the area. Large, white candles were burning on the coffee table, emitting the pleasant aroma of vanilla that greeted Dean at the door. Red roses crowded a vase on the end table and there were loose petals spread across the floor. Dean’s eyes searched for the source of the music and Cas’s small, black record player next to an ice bucket holding a bottle of white wine. Two stemless wine glasses sat on the table near the wine, Dean walked over and picked one up. They were both engraved, one with “Winchester” and the other with “Novak”. He turned the glass over in his hands, taking in the meaning of the two next to each other. Cas obviously didn’t just find these, he had to get them from somewhere, specifically for them. 

Still holding the glass in one hand, Dean turned towards Cas, tears forming in his eyes. God, Winchester, hold it together for one minute, please. He pleaded with himself. 

Cas stood before him in the living room and Dean was able to appreciate fully the effort that Cas had gone through. He hadn’t noticed before, but Cas was wearing dark blue slacks with a white button-down and a matching dark blue tie. The top button was undone and the knot of his tie was loose. Cas’s eyes were red-rimmed and his shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms. Dean ran his eyes up and down over Cas, understanding that his night had been just as rough as his own. 

In the handful of breaths that the two stood in the living without saying a word to each other, Dean was finally able to place the music in his head. Cas pulled out his Sam Smith record, one of his favorites. Dean never listened to this album on his own, blame it on the emotional trauma, but he always thought it was too sad for him to truly enjoy. He’s brave enough to admit that while it pulled on his heart, Smith was talented and had a beautiful voice. 

Cas closed the space between them and slid Dean’s jacket off of him. He turned and rested the coat on the back of the armchair. He took Dean’s hands into his own and pressed a light kiss to the backs of both hands. 

“Dean, I am so sorry, “ Cas said, his voice cracked and gravelly. He peeled his eyes from their interlocked hands and looked back up at Dean, tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill over. 

Cas led them over to the couch and sat Dean down. He wiped his face clear even though the tears never fell from his eyes. He looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. While he did this, Dean could see the anguish in Cas’s face, his eyes were stained red around the edges, his cheeks puffy and blotchy from heavy crying. Cas’s hands trembled ever so slightly in Dean’s. Cas took a deep breath and looked back to Dean. 

“Dean, I knew as soon as I heard the door slam behind you, that I had fucked up something awful.” - Cas gave Dean’s hands a gentle squeeze, as though he was trying to ground himself in this moment - “I knew I was wrong, and I wanted to call you back here and -and- and, just apologize then. But I know you, and I know that you just needed time to be mad at me. And while it hurt me to let you leave, and to let you feel these feelings, I, uh, also needed time to work on something.” Cas stumbled over his words before looking around the room, drawing Dean’s attention once again to their surroundings. 

Dean looked back at Cas and waited for him to continue. The slight uptick of the corner of Cas’s mouth told him that he was grateful for Dean’s patience. 

“I was wrong Dean, I haven’t been giving you the attention and the credit that you so obviously deserve. Deep down I always recognized my selfishness, I let what should have been a simple conversation fester and escalate into something much larger” Now the tears flowed from Cas. Dean watched the man he loves pour his being into this apology and the familiar pin-prick of tears nipped at the back of Dean’s eyes. He sniffed and swallowed back what he could. 

“You have been working so hard to keep a roof over both of our heads,” Cas said, his voice breaking with every word, “You cook” - Cas brought Dean’s right hand up and placed a gentle kiss to it - “and you clean” - Cas kissed the back of Dean’s left hand - “and you’ve never asked me to sacrifice a minute of my schooling for help.” - Cas held both of Dena’s hands tightly between his own, pulling them to his chest - “I don’t deserve you or the treatment that you’ve given me recently.” Cas met Dean’s gaze, tilting his head to the side. 

Dean sat in stunned silence. All of the thoughts that ran through his mind earlier were wrong, he hadn’t expected Cas to apologize to him. Dean resigned himself to a life of partial happiness as long as it meant never losing a partner. He fell under the assumption that he wasn’t worth anything and didn’t deserve better than this lot of life. And here was Cas bursting at the seams to make this up to him. He sat there, with Cas to his side, quickly trying to piece together a reaction. 

“Castiel Novak,” Dean whispered, his voice dripping with adoration. He pulled one hand from Cas’s grip and cradled his face. Cas closed his eyes and leaned into Dean’s hand.   
“Where on Earth do you think I would be without you?” Dean asked. “I love you so deeply, and so completely. Thank you for saying this to me, I’m really glad that this is how tonight ended up going.”

The two of them sat in silence, tears gently streamed down their faces. Dean moved to wrap one arm around Cas’s shoulders and Cas pulled his knees up. He curled into Dean, moving to fill his lap.

“Cas, honeybee?” Dean said after several minutes. “I do have a question for you.” 

“Yes, Dean?” Cas replied, lifting his head off Dean’s shoulder. 

“Where did all this stuff come from?” Dean gestured with his chin at the surplus of candles, string lights, and rose petals filling the apartment. 

“Ah,” Cas said, pulling out of Dean’s arms and sitting up next to him. “After you left and I got my head out of my ass, I called Hannah and asked her to pick some stuff up for me.” - Cas wrinkled his nose and scratched the back of his neck - “I would have gone myself but I wanted to do something special for you.” 

“What else did you do? Babe, just coming home to this whole setting and having you admit that you know what upset me was enough for me.” 

“Well,” - Cas slapped his hands down on his thighs for effect - “I picked up the dirty laundry, folded the clean laundry in the basket, took all the trash and recycling out, cooked and meal prepped next week’s lunches for you, then cleaned all the dishes and the kitchen.” Cas whipped his head around to look at Dean, a small smirk on his face. 

Dean’s eyebrows raised until they were practically in his hair and he felt his jaw drop open slightly. 

“Cas, you did all of that for me?” Dean asked in a small voice, pointing at his chest. 

“Dean, yes, look at me,” Cas said sternly in his closest approximation of an Angel of The Lord voice. “You deserve so much more than what I was contributing. I should be expected to do basic adult things around the apartment. It was the absolute least I could do to put the damn laundry away.” - Cas gestures behind him - “You deserve help and I know that one big gesture from me is not enough. It’s not enough to make up for the neglect you’ve faced but I want to work on this. I want to be better for you and because of you.” Cas sank back into the couch, shrinking into himself. 

Dean was overwhelmed. His brain tried to fit the pieces together. His stomach churned with the guilt of not giving Cas enough credit, of assuming that this angel would rather toss him out on the street than be asked to treat him as an equal. John’s words about the kind of man Dean was roared in his mind throughout most of his life and their only equal, their only true adversary, were the words that left Castiel’s mouth every time he talked about Dean. With every declaration of love and gratitude, the volume of the roar diminished. 

Dean stood from the couch, pushed the coffee table over to one side, and walked over to the small, Bluetooth speaker sitting on the dining table. He turned up the volume and Sam Smith’s “Lay Me Down” filled the small living room. He walked back over to Cas and extended one hand. 

Cas looked up at Dean with a puzzled expression, his eyebrow raised and the blue’s of his eyes sparkling in the candlelight. He took Dean’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled into a tight embrace. Dean took one of Cas’s hands and wrapped it around his waist. He took Cas’s other hand into his own, wrapping his free hand around Cas’s waist, and pulled him in close. Dean swayed them along with the beat of the music and the gentle lull of Smith’s voice. He placed a tender kiss on Cas’s forehead. 

“Thank you, baby, I’m always going to choose you,” Dean whispered just loud enough for Cas to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting! Life's a little crazy with assignments and work.  
> Thanks for the kudos and comments!!!


	6. Thanksgiving 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is struggling, lots of feelings and blame all around  
> we meet a new pal!

Castiel let the car door slam behind him. He slumped into the driver’s seat and slid forward until his forehead hit the steering wheel. 

“Castiel, what the FUCK?” he screamed to an empty car. He pulled back from the steering wheel until he was upright in the seat, his head and back pressed against the seat. He smacked the steering wheel, screaming with each hit. 

“CASTIEL” - SMACK-   
“WHAT” -SMACK- “THE” -SMACK- “HELL” -SMACK- “were you thinking?” His screams died out, he sat in the seat breathing heavy. 

“What the hell did you do?” he whispered to himself. He suddenly remembered where he was parked and quickly snapped his head to look up at Dean’s window. A soft prayer wishing that Dean hadn’t been looking out his window during Castiel’s temper tantrum rolled off his tongue.

He slid his key into the ignition and started the car, holding his breath until the engine turned over. He eased the car out of the parking space and drove himself back to his apartment in silence. 

\-- 

He fought tears the entire drive home. He continued fighting as he climbed the stairs to his apartment, as he looked around the small space that he shared with another resident from the hospital. He fought as he entered his bedroom and drew the curtains. He couldn’t bear looking around his bedroom and being reminded that this space was undeniably his and his alone. Seeing Dean’s apartment earlier showed him all the things he was missing. There were no records lined up carefully on the bookshelves, no Vonnegut novels piled on the nightstand, no leather jacket tossed over a chair in the corner, none of the things that screamed the presence of one Dean Winchester. Everything in his room felt so clinical. All of his belongings existed in this apartment to serve a purpose in his life as a medical intern. Nothing remained of his past life with Dean. Except for three things. 

Castiel walked over to his dresser and opened the bottom drawer. In the very back, hidden behind wool socks and hats stored away for winter, was one t-shirt, one pair of sweatpants, and one small, black box stuffed in the pocket of the sweatpants.   
He removed the trio, unfolding the shirt and pants. He pressed the shirt to his face, breaking in the smell of Dean that lingered. The scent of leather and wood filled his nose and Castiel whimpered, brought low by the memory. He looked at the shirt, remembering the night Dean gave it to him and how he would make Dean wear it around the house so that it would always smell like it. He tossed it across his left shoulder and held the pants up in front of him and retrieved the box from the pocket. As he turned the box over in his hand, he dropped the pants onto the floor and ran his fingers over the closed lid. Castiel turned and sat on the edge of his bed and cracked the box open.   
His breath hitched as he caught a glimpse of the onyx band. The ring sat in stark contrast to the red velvet covering the inside of the box. Castiel removed the ring and set the box to the side. He ran his fingers over the sparkling blue stripe that ran through the center of the band, he moved it so that the light reflected the flecks of silver within the sapphire. Along the inner surface of the ring at the engraving:

Happiness is in the being. 

He placed the ring back in its box and moved to return it to its hiding place but hesitated, instead he left it propped open on his nightstand. His eyes remained dry as he changed out of his scrubs into the t-shirt and sweatpants. He stood, wearing Dean’s clothes, quickly losing his composure. He reached over and closed the lid of the box. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, forcing the roar of emotion that was threatening to escape back down. 

Castiel collapsed face-first on his bed and drew a blanket over himself. He took several long and deep breaths, holding his breath after every inhale, then forcing his exhale through pursed lips. He pulled himself back from the edge, away from a total breakdown. As he laid in bed focusing on his breathing, he knew that he would have to deal with these emotions and process them eventually, but that time did not have to be right now.   
He was very nearly asleep when his phone buzzed and played the loud, obnoxious chorus of LMFAO’s Sexy and I know it. 

“God, Gabe, are you kidding? You changed your ringtone in my phone again? Really?” Castiel grumbled into the phone as he answered, his face still smushed into a pillow. 

“HELL YEAH LITTLE BRO! Did you expect anything else from me?” Gabe’s over-enthusiastic voice chirped on the other end of the line. “How the hell are you on this fine American holiday?”

“Not great, Gabe.”

“What’s going on?” His tone suddenly shifted.

“Well, I just had a rough morning at the hospital,” Castiel replied, his tone clipped and uninviting to other questions. 

“What happened? Can you tell me with HIPAA and stuff?” Gabe pushed, forcing Castiel out of his shell. 

“Well I can tell you who I saw since I saw them outside the hospital after my shift but I can’t tell you what I treated them for,” Castiel said, hoping that Gabe was just asking for the juicy hospital details. 

“Ooooh, you saw them after your shift??? Who? Who? Who?” Gabe asked and Castiel could practically see him bouncing in his seat. 

“I ran into Dean this morning.” 

There was silence on the other end. Castiel was about to open his mouth to ask if Gabe was still there when he heard a door close on his brother’s end of the call.

“Like THE Dean Winchester? Shit, how is he doing?” Gabe asked.

“Well, other than the trip to my emergency room, he seems to be doing fine, Gabe.” There was a pregnant pause in the air before Castiel continued, “He’s still living in the same apartment, Gabe, it's almost exactly the same as how I left it 2 years ago.” Castiel took in a deep gulp of air, his voice beginning to shake. 

“Ok, Cassie, hold on, me and Tucker will be there in a jiffy.” Gabe hung up the phone and grabbed his youngest child to go.   
\--  
When Gabe arrived at Castiel’s apartment, his knocks went unanswered. He used his own key and rushed into his brother’s bedroom. He breathed a sigh of relief to find that Castiel was alive and breathing, just stuck in his own mind and world, oblivious to his surroundings.

With his son still strapped to the baby björn on his chest, Gabe walked over to the windows and opened the curtains. Fresh, bright sunlight filled the room, it was a beautiful fall day and Gabe couldn’t believe that Castiel was wasting the unusual weather by closing his black-out curtain. 

When he turned back to his brother, the questions left his mind. Castiel was wearing a worn, black sabbath t-shirt and grey sweatpants that were too large for him. His normally fluffy black tufts of hair laid flat against his scalp, his eyes were bloodshot from tears unshed, and his naturally warm complexion was drained and pale. The last time Gabe had seen his brother in such a state was shortly after he had moved out of the apartment he shared with Dean. In fact, he didn’t know that Castiel still had this shirt and pair of sweatpants. 

Gabe crossed the room, unbuckling Tucker from the baby carrier as he took careful steps towards Castiel. His mind quickly recalled the memories of the first month or so after he collected his brother’s belongings from Dean’s apartment. Castiel had asked him to take his key and retrieve his clothes and textbooks, that he couldn’t go back and do it himself. Armed with a list of supplies and Dean’s schedule, Gabe dumped the contents of his brother’s drawers in the dresser into a laundry. He gathered Castiel’s clothing from the closet, and his books from the bookshelf in the living room and gently placed them in the duffel bag he brought along.   
As he moved around the apartment, he looked at all the photographs that were hanging on the walls, at the happy, blissful memories of his brother and dear friend as they started their lives together. He couldn’t stop the weight from settling in his stomach, or the pain he felt in his heart for these two men that were obviously head over heels for each other. He knew that their feelings would not change for each other, that while someday they may put themselves back together, they would never be whole until they found each other again.   
Gabe left Castiel’s key on the counter, locked the door from the inside, and left. 

Gabriel sat on the bed next to his brother, holding his bouncing son in his lap. Tucker turned towards Castiel and held his chubby arms out towards his uncle. Castiel seemed to wake up from his disconnection and flashed a bright, albeit fake smile at his young nephew. 

“Hey bro,” Gabe asked quietly, sliding his son from his lap into Castiel’s, “what’s going on?” 

“I’m not sure,” Castiel replied, exhaling deeply as he took his nephew and bounced him on his knee, “I didn’t expect to see him today, not that I never expected to see him. I knew deep down that it was only a matter of time before we crossed paths again, but… ahhh” - Castiel sighed hard - “there was something about seeing him that just took the breath out of me.” 

Gabriel nodded along with his brother’s words, not having a clue on how to handle the situation that was unfolding in front of him. Castiel’s reaction to seeing Dean today undoubtedly confirmed Gabe’s suspicions that he was still madly, irrevocably in love with Dean Winchester.   
He reached out and rubbed small circles in his younger brother’s back. Gabe looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. It had been a long time since his brother last looked the way he did now. Sitting on the bed holding his son, he seemed to be a shell of himself, the light that normally shone in his eyes was extinguished today. He knew that Castiel blamed himself for leaving, that he tortured himself for “abandoning Dean”, that he wished he had been strong enough to stay.   
During the first couple of weeks after Castiel left Dean, it took everything Gabe and Kali had to get him to leave the guest room. Castiel would barely eat, would change into clean clothes only when he was forced out of the apartment for class then would change back into the black sabbath t-shirt and grey sweatpants he was wearing right now. Gabe remembered the one time that he managed to steal the clothes away long enough to wash them. When Castiel returned home that day and found them neatly folded on the bed. He fell to his knees and sobbed, he screamed at Gabe for the simple act of caring for him. Through his tears, Gabe was able to piece together that Castiel was worried the clothes wouldn’t smell like Dean anymore. Luckily, he only ran them under cold water to remove a stain and line dried them, so they retained a small amount of their original smell. 

Gabe looked at his brother, worried that he would regress to where he had been two years ago. When Castiel glanced back at him, he seemed sad and confronted with a devastating past, but not broken, not like before. Castiel turned his attention back to Tucker, bouncing him on his knee and cooing softly at the infant. As he watched Castiel play with his son, Gabe was no longer worried that his brother would fall into as deep a depression as before, that this was a hiccup for him. His original hypothesis that Dean and Castiel would put themselves back together with one very important piece of themselves missing was proven to be correct, at least for Castiel. And he had good reason to believe that the same was true for Dean. 

“I asked him if we could try being friends again,” Castiel said, not taking his eyes off of Tucker. “I was a blubbering idiot today, Gabe.”

“Well, what did he say?” Gabe said in between the funny faces he was making at his son. 

“He seemed to go along with it, I mean, as best as he could given that he was in the hospital.” 

“Yeah, ok, you said that you saw him after your shift?” Gabe asked, pulling his head back up. 

“Huh, I was wondering if you were going to remember that part.” - Castiel looked up at Gabe - “I drove him home, that’s how I knew that his apartment looked the same.” 

“You drove him home?” he asked, shaking his head at the absurdity of the idea. 

“Yes, I drove him home and I ran into Jo while I was in his apartment. She did not seem super pleased to see me.” - Castiel stood with Tucker and walked him around the room, the boy babbled and wiggled in his arms - “right as I was leaving, I asked Dean to consider getting coffee sometime, and I told him that I wanted to know how he was doing, you know, just as friends.” 

Gabe sat silently for a minute, watching Castiel and Tucker, trying to figure out what to say next. The words sat on the tip of his tongue but he refused to give them air. 

“Gabe? You look like you have something to say.” Castiel said over his shoulder, “You can say it, I know I looked rough when you first got here but this little guy” - he lifted Tucker up over his head and gave him a little toss, enough for the boy to leave his grasp but never leave his hands - “works wonders on heartache.”

“Uh, yeah, well, “ - Gabe cleared his throat and Castiel turned around to face him - “I do have one question for you.” 

“Shoot, what’s up?” Castiel said. 

“Do you still love him?” Gabe asked, holding his breath for an answer. 

“I’ve loved him since the day I met him,” Castiel answered without hesitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments!


	7. August 2010

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally get the story for how our two boys met!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end of the chapter

It was 3:06 pm on a Thursday. Castiel sat sweltering in a poorly circulated auditorium as his professor powered on the projector for their first lecture. The door at the back of the auditorium slammed open, letting a pool of light spill across the dimmed room. The entirety of a 300-person lecture hall silenced their conversations and turned to face the source of the commotion. Castiel turned in his seat and saw, standing at the top of the stairs illuminated by the natural daylight of Kansas in the summer, a blonde-haired adonis. The man of near Greek God appearance kept his eyes glued to the floor in front of his feet as he ran down the steps, letting the door close noisily behind him. He only brought his head up to look for an open seat, and his eyes settled on the nearest spot next to Castiel. 

The man shuffled into the small aisle and settled into the empty desk. Castiel leaned away from him, to give him the space needed to adjust the small writing surface attached to the seats in the hall. 

“Alright students!” the instructor at the front of the room clapped his hands together, collecting the attention of his class. “Now that we’re all here, welcome to Biology 101! My name is Dr. Crowley but you can call me Crowley.” The short man paced in front of the class, his arms crossed in front of him. 

“My class is known to be difficult, but I do have students that do exceptionally well, meaning that if you work hard enough, it will pay off for you. So take the next 5 to 10 minutes to get to know the people sitting next to you, talk to them, learn from them, don’t discredit them when it comes time to study and review the material. You will learn better working with others, I can almost guarantee it.” Crowley stopped in the middle of the floor and turned to face the class, “I mean it, take 10 minutes then I’ll go over the syllabus.” 

The room began to buzz with the gentle murmurs of strangers beginning their conversations. Castiel shifted in his seat and faced the stranger that had been late to class and his eyes met the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. His eyes were an iridescent green with gold and brown that reminded Castiel of a spring meadow. His blonde hair hung just long enough to frame his face. As his eyes scanned the stranger’s face, Castiel felt his mouth go dry. He swallowed hard, trying not to give away that he was at a loss for words. He took in the landscape of the man’s face, the chiseled jawline, the gentle curves of his lips, the galaxy of freckles that painted his cheeks, and soft crinkle between his eyebrows as he waited for Castiel to say something. 

Castiel shook himself out of his stupor. He had kept this guy waiting while he ogled his good looks, way to go bud. 

“Uh, Hi,” Castiel said, stumbling over his words as he hurriedly wiped the palm of his hand on his jeans to dry off the sweat. “My name is Castiel Novak and I just moved here from Pontiac, Illinois.” He held his hand out for the man to shake. 

“Hi, I’m Dean,” Dean replied, taking Castiel’s hand in his, “I’m from Lawrence, so I didn’t go far.” He shook Castiel’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before he pulled his hand back. He smiled softly, his eyes glistening with genuine pleasure at the conversation. 

“That has to be somewhat nice, not being that far from home?” 

“Eh, it's alright I guess, it means that I don't have an excuse to miss family meals on Sundays. But enough about that, you said your name is Castiel? Like the angel?” 

“You recognized my name? And pronounced it correctly on the first try?” Castiel asked, tilting his head in surprise. 

“Yeah! Wait, it's the angel of… Tuesday?” -Dean bit his bottom lip and Castiel could practically see the wheels turning in his mind- “Shoot! Thursday! The angel of Thursday, which is fitting since today is a Thursday.” Dean said, winking at Castiel. 

“Um, yeah, actually,” Castiel said, his grin widened into a full smile. His stomach flipped at the mere idea that someone knew the origin of his name, and seemed to be interested in discussing it. He reveled in the fact that Dean wasn’t put off by the religious background that he obviously came from. 

“Yes, I knew it!” -Dean pumped his fist in a small gesture in front of him- “My mom was super into angels when I was a kid and I still have the book she gave me on them.” 

“Well, I’m impressed,” Castiel chuckled and shook his head, “Kudos to your mom for educating you, I’m sure she’ll be very pleased to know that you remembered part of your lessons with her.” 

Dean’s smile faltered and he looked down at his lap briefly, as if to collect himself. Castiel could feel the grin fall from his face, the butterflies in his stomach instantly turned to lead. Had he overstepped? He thought. He had been known to get too comfortable too quickly with people, that he didn’t have the best record of making new friends, that his “people skills” were “rusty”. As if they had ever been anything but. 

“I’m sorry,” -Castiel reached out to lay a hand on Dean’s arm- “I didn’t mean to overstep-” He looked down at his hand resting on Dean, shock resonated through him. He couldn’t believe that he was touching him, why had he thought this was a good plan? He is in the middle of apologizing for overstepping and this is what he does?

“Nah man, it's all good,” -Dean brought his head back up, the same full smile spread across his face- “So, if we’re supposed to be getting to know each other and studying together, I was hoping I could ask you a small favor?”

“Yeah, Dean, what’s up?” Castiel asked, relieved at the turn around in the man’s demeanor.

“Well, I have to miss class on Tuesday, I know right, like already?” Dean said, nodding his head along with the cadence of his gentle midwestern accent, “I have some family business that I have to take care of and I could not get out of it on Tuesday. Is there any way that I could convince you to take notes for me?”

“Oh, of course! It would be no problem!” Castiel enthusiastically agreed, pleased that Dean still wanted to interact with him, that he was taking their professor’s suggestion of studying together seriously or at least pretending to. He started to ask what but sensed that this is not information that he should ask a near-total stranger, the pinch of Dean’s eyebrows and clenched jaw told him that this was something significant. 

“I can even meet you for coffee or lunch or something else next week! Maybe Wednesday between our lectures and kinda give you a rundown of what you missed! Let me give you my number!” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, Castiel wished he could pull them back. His eyes widened in fear that he had come across too strong, that this guy didn’t want anything more than someone to email him a missing lecture. 

“Hell Yeah! Thanks, man! You’re like an angel-in-disguise, Cas.” Dean replied, a bright smile lit up his face. 

“What did you call me?” Castiel asked, the lead weight sitting in his stomach lifted, his heart clenched. 

“Uh, Cas? Or the angel part? Sorry, I give everyone nicknames but if we aren’t those kinds of friends then I don’t have to, sorry about that.” Dean shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, anxious that he had overstepped his bounds. He was flustered and Cas could see the soft skin above his shirt color turn pink and spread up across his cheeks as Dean tried to back his way out of the compliment. 

After a brief pause, Cas realized that he hadn’t responded to Dean’s apology, and a nervous silence grew between them. Cas desperately tried to find a way to break it, but it was as if all of the gears in his mind stopped turning. He felt the palms of his hands moisten, he was certain that he created this silence, it was his turn to say something, his turn to respond and put Dean at ease. His quick reaction to the nickname shocked Dean into thinking he had overstepped, but that wasn’t it at all. Cas had never been given a nickname, well, at least not one that he could see himself wearing, not one that seemed endearing. He was in disbelief. Dean wasn’t put off, he wanted to meet him for lunch and/or coffee next week. He was interested in being study buddies, in being friends. He had given Castiel a new name. Finally, he found his voice. 

“Don’t apologize, or be embarrassed,” Cas smirked and tore off a corner of notebook paper. He scribbled his name and number down, “I tend to have that effect on guys, especially those I deem worthy of my time and phone number.” He winked and held the slip of paper towards Dean. 

The already expansive smile on Dean’s face grew larger, he bit his lower lip and took the paper from Cas. 

\--

A week had passed since the light that was Dean Winchester entered his life. Cas sat in the coffee shop absentmindedly chewing the nails on his left hand and tapping his right foot. He recognized a change in himself last Thursday, but couldn’t quite name that change. He felt lighter, less restricted, and more confident in himself. The only thing that set last Thursday aside from every other day in his life, was the introduction of Dean. 

Castiel arrived at the coffee shop an hour before his scheduled meeting with Dean. he told himself that he wanted to get there early so that he could work on other assignments before meeting Dean. But in reality, he was too nervous to be anywhere else. He was kept up the night before with various ‘what-ifs’ running through his head. ‘What if he tried to take the bus and it was delayed?’ ‘What if he decided to walk there 15 minutes before and he was sweaty and a mess by the time he got there?’ ‘What if Dean was early?’ ‘What if he got the time wrong and Dean thought he stood him up??’

He sat there at the table and shook these hypothetical thoughts out of his head. He got a head start on his reading assignments for his ‘Intro to Anthropology’ course and he was pretty sure he knew what his final paper was going to be on. In other words, maybe his anxiety actually paid off this one time. He checked his watch and saw that Dean was expected any minute now. He cleared the table and returned all of his books and papers to his book bag, it was too early in their friendship for Dean to see how anxious and neurotic Cas was. 

“Heya, Cas'' Dean's voice broke through the cloud of thoughts raging through Castiel’s mind. He looked up at the voice and was stunned. Dean looked radiant against the sunlit backdrop of the windows behind him. The light reflected the gold coloring in his eyes and pulled attention to the freckles splashed across his cheeks. Cas thought about the old saying, that freckles were angel kisses, and he was unsurprised that Dean had garnered the attention of angels. Dean sat down across from Cas and the smell of wood and leather rolled off of him, filling the air around them. 

“Hello, Dean” Cas spoke with false confidence. His mouth went dry and his tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth. 

“Have you been waiting long? I know I was a little late-” Dean said, removing his phone from his pocket to check the time.   
“Don’t worry!” Cas said, reaching across the table to place a hand on Dean’s, “I got here early to work on some assignments, you’re not late.” 

“Oh, ok good,” Dean visibly relaxed, the pinch of his eyebrows released and his shoulders dropped from around his ears. “Do you want another drink? I’ll buy you something?” Dean gestured over his shoulder at the bar. 

“Thank you, Dean” -Cas flashed an award-winning smile- “I’d love a honey latte.” 

“Gotcha, be right back,” Dean replied, snapping his fingers in a finger-gun motion and winking at Cas as he slid out of the booth. 

Cas was left with his thoughts, watching Dean’s bow legs carry him across the shop. He studied Dean as he stood in line and wondered what he was doing here. Sure, it would be nice to have a friend in his classes, someone to study with, and who would understand the stress of the course. But was that why he was here? Cas heard a small whisper in the back of his head, telling him that he knew his motive for being there, and it wasn’t to find someone to study with.   
He shook his head, quieting this train of thought. In a desperate attempt to redirect his thoughts, he grabbed his backpack and retrieved the folder with yesterday’s biology notes. He placed them on the table in front of him along with a small pad of post-it notes. He shuffled the notes around, double-checking that he had printed all of the pages, unable to silence that nagging feeling that there was something more than he was willing to admit. He read the first page of notes, and reread them, and reread them, trying to pull his mind away from the pit sitting in his stomach, away from his true intentions of this coffee date. 

“Hey man, you good?” Dean asked, one eyebrow raised and two cups of coffee in his hands. “You look like someone pissed in your cheerios.” 

“Uh, uh, yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Cas said quickly, looking up at Dean as he sat down and waved his hand dismissively the air in front of him, as though that would clear up the situation. 

“Ok good. Here is your honey latte,” Dean said, a small grin appearing on his face as he set the mug down in front of Cas. “And I got a vanilla chai, my brother’s girlfriend introduced me to them and I will never admit to her that they are actually pretty tasty.” He raised his mug to take a sip, and when he pulled it away, a small foam mustache was left behind. 

“Oh you, uh, have a little something,” Cas said, pointing to his own lip. Dean touched his face to find the foam, and instead of using a napkin, used his lip to lick the foam off. Castiel sat there, a beat of momentary awe washed over him as the most attractive man he had ever been in the vicinity in, used his tongue to lick his lips mere inches away from him. 

“So, thanks again for taking notes for me yesterday and for offering to help me through the material that I missed. I can’t believe I had to miss a lecture this early in the semester. I hope the coffee was payment enough for helping me out.” Dean said, gesturing to the coffee sitting untouched in front of Cas. 

“Oh my god, of course, Dean. I didn’t mind it at all, I did feel more inclined to actually pay attention yesterday since I knew we were going to be talking about it. And anyone who is willing to buy me a honey latte as payment is all squared up in my book.” Cas said, picking his drink up to take a sip. An involuntary moan escaped him as the sweet rush of caffeine entered his system. 

“So, honey, huh?” Dean asked, sitting up straighter in his seat. Cas noted the shift in Dean’s posture and wondered if his moan had anything to do with it. Shaking off this thought, he responded. 

“Yes! I do rather enjoy honey, the bees are magnificent creatures and they are dying far too quickly.” 

“Alright cool man, I can get behind someone who feels strongly about wildlife, so what, are you in school to go into environmental stuff or something? What’s the play here?” Dean asked. 

“Well,” Cas said, folding his hands in front of him on the table, “as much as I love bees, I’m here as a pre-med student, I want to be a doctor when I grow up.” He looked down at his hands, not wanting to see Dean’s reaction to such a generic career goal. 

“Damn man! That’s so cool! Do you know what you might want to practice yet?” Dean asked, pulling Cas’s attention away from his hands, pumping him for more information. 

“Uh, well,” Cas spoke in a near whisper, he hadn’t been asked this with such genuine interest before. “I’m not entirely sure yet, but I was thinking about maybe cardiovascular surgery.” 

“Whoa, that’s super intense. Totally badass but a shit ton of work.” Dean said, his eyebrows raised in admiration. He leaned back against the back of the booth. “Is there something that prompted you to consider medicine or ?” 

“It just feels like the noblest calling for myself, man, like fighting diseases. I can’t imagine anything else for myself,” Cas said, gripping the mug tight between his hands. 

“Hell yeah, dude! I get what you’re saying and I can totally picture it too, you’d be like this badass warrior with a silver blade, your white lab coat billowing around you as you take on our most fearsome monsters.” Dean said, his eyes lighting up as he talked with his hands, using them to create a scene in which Cas was a soldier in the fight against death. 

Cas stared at Dean. No one had described him like this or had even taken the time to dissect why he was interested in medicine in the first place. He was just written off as the greedy son of two doctors who was just following in the family business of saving people and curing disease.   
As he listened to Dean describe him as a conqueror of illness and death, he too began to picture himself in this role. He felt more secure in himself just knowing that an outside source understood what he was saying, that this almost-total stranger could see his motives, that he could articulate the exact feelings Cas had about medicine.   
Dean took a sip of his coffee and looked up to catch Cas’s eyes. Their gazes lingered for a moment, long enough for a deep breath, for both to drink in this moment they were sharing, long enough for Castiel to remember that this wasn’t a date. He tore his eyes away, looking down into his mug. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he internally scolded himself for losing himself. 

“So, what do you want to be when you grow up, Dean?” Cas asked, he raised his mug up to his face with both hands, raising an eyebrow over the lip.   
“Well, haha, it’s not going to sound as impressive as yours,” Dean said in a small voice, looking down at his lap, “I want to be a history teacher, probably high school students.”   
“Oh wow, Dean, teaching is incredible,” - Cas set his mug down and reached across the table to lay a hand on Dean’s- “I know I could never do it, I hate people a lot. I’ve been told that my ‘people skills’ are ‘rusty’ “ Cas said, removing his hand from Dean’s to add air-quotes. 

Dean looked up and met Cas’s gaze, the two sat in silence for a breath. 

“Why do you not think that teaching is impressive? Or important?” Cas asked, his voice barely above a whisper.   
“I dunno man, it’s not fighting disease, for one thing,” Dean said dismissively. “No one’s ever really cared much about what I want to do. My old man for sure thought that I would follow in his footsteps and just be a mechanic like him. But what if I wanted something that was mine? What if I didn’t just want to be someone who just does whatever his dad tells him to do?” -Dean was speaking faster, his words coming out in a harsh pant as the color rose in his cheeks and Cas could see the watery appearance his eyes were developing- “I always looked up to my dad and listened to him, but recently I’ve found out that he never gave a shit about me, that he wasn’t someone who’s footsteps I should follow, that just because he didn’t care about me, doesn’t mean that I can’t care about me.” 

Cas sat in stunned silence, he watched as Dean caught his breath and saw the realization of what he had just shared wash over him. He watched Dean turn his head away from him and wipe the forming tears from his eyes. When Dean turned back to face Cas, his eyes were red-rimmed but dry. Cas took a couple of deep breaths and remained silent, his head tilted to the side as he waited for Dean to continue talking. 

“Ha wow,” Dean said finally, taking an exaggerated inhale, “I did not mean to share all of that with you, I guess everything is still a little fresh from yesterday.” -Dean clapped his hands together once- “Anyways! I love history, always have. I enjoy reading and piecing together what really happened in the past. I want to be able to share with people that just because someone won a war or whatever, that they were the hero of the story. I remember how shocked I was to find out what a dirtbag Chris Columbus was and I want to be there to see the spark ignite in people and prompt that discussion about where we really came from. But dude, it’s super dull compared to you fighting death.” 

“Well, I for one, think that teaching history is exactly what you should do. It might sound boring to someone but if it makes you happy and excited and you’re passionate about it, then fuck them!” Cas said, flipping his hand to brush off the haters, “Fuck anyone who makes you feel bad about what you love. And? Let me share a secret with you.” - Cas leaned in over the table- “teachers are fucking hot.” 

Cas sat back in his seat and mentally kicked himself, what the fuck was he doing? Why was he flirting so hard with this guy? He just met him and the likelihood that this man was as straight as uncooked spaghetti was 100 to none. 

“DUDE WHAT?” Dean nearly yelled before bursting out into laughter. Once the realization that he wasn’t going to go running out of the coffee shop sank in, Cas was pulled into the laughter as well. He listened to Dean laugh and decided that it was his new favorite sound. It was comforting and intoxicating and there was nothing Cas wanted to do more in this moment than to make him laugh more. 

The two finally pulled themselves together, holding their sides and wiping imaginary tears from their eyes. 

“Thanks, man,” Dean whispered.   
“No problem, Dean,” Cas whispered back, letting his eyes linger in contact with Dean’s until Dean broke it. Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat and before he knew it, the words were leaving Cas’s mouth. 

“Where were you yesterday?” Cas asked, his eyes widening in surprise at the sound of his voice prying into Dean’s private life. 

“Oh my god, I should not have asked.” Cas spat out quickly, cutting Dean off before he had the chance to respond. “I should not be prying into your business and we barely know each other and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and please let me think of literally anything else that we can talk about oh my god I can’t believe that I did that, I don’t know what possessed me to ask-”   
“CAS!” Dean said, cutting Cas off and grasping Cas’s hands in his own. “It’s ok, I just had a small breakdown over wanting to be a history teacher so I think we’re a little more than strangers at this point. I don’t mind you asking.” A small smile formed on Dean’s face, putting Cas at ease.   
“I was testifying in court yesterday, in an assault case,” Dean said, still holding Cas’s hands.   
“What? You were testifying in an assault case? Can you ever talk about it?” Cas asked, his eyebrows raised high in disbelief of what Dean had said.   
“Well,” -Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing- “I can talk about it since I was the victim in the case.” -another deep breath- “And I cannot believe it feels this easy to say this, but remember how I said that my dad was not a good role model? Well…”

Cas gasped at this confession and Dean pulled his hands back out of Cas’s grip. He fumbled for the warmth of Dean’s hands, he searched for the grounding weight that was this man’s hands in his own. He looked up at Dean and saw acceptance painted on his face. 

“Are you ok?” Cas asked, finally finding the words to respond to Dean. “Do you need anything?” 

“Thanks for asking, I think I’m doing alright for right now. It might be different in a couple of weeks when the verdict and sentencing come back but, for now? Just getting out of my dorm and creating some semblance of a life for myself is all that I need. So thanks for having me out for coffee. Let’s do it again sometime.” Dean said, a gentle grin spreading across his face, lighting up the room. 

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Dean. If you ever feel like talking about it, just let me know.” 

“That’s a story for another time” Dean replied. “I appreciate you taking the time to share notes with me, but I think I should be heading back to my dorm, I have to do laundry and cook dinner and all that bullshit. I’m serious about getting together and doing something again.”

“Of course Dean, if you need me to explain something in my notes, just call me,” Cas said. 

Dean nodded his head at Cas once and stood to leave the shop. Cas remained in his seat for another few minutes, piecing together the events of that afternoon. 

He knew that he didn’t just want a friendship with Dean, this was only their second time seeing each other but he knew what the pit in the bottom of his stomach was telling him. He didn’t believe, or didn’t let himself believe it last week, but Castiel admitted to himself now that he was falling in love with Dean Winchester. How could he, someone who prided himself on his logic and reasoning skills, someone who had been skeptical of love and relationships, find himself falling for someone he had barely talked to? Despite his best efforts to explain his feelings away, he knew that there was something about Dean that pulled him in and wouldn’t let go. On principle, he didn’t believe in the concept of love at first sight. He chalked it up to a load of crap that Hollywood made up to sell movie tickets, and yet? Here he was, imagining a world in which someone like Dean Winchester could end up with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos!!! I hope that this one is enough to hold you over until next week!


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